Heroes Rise and Fall
by Mizuno-Suzuka
Summary: The scourge is prevailing across the continents of Azeroth. Many are going missing, more are turning up undead. The Hexknot sister's know little of this threat, living a mostly peaceful life in Everlook. But storms rage from sunny skies, and soon their world is darkened by an overbearing shadow, caused by the Lich King. T For violence and some adult themes.
1. The Beginning Ch1

"Heroes rise and fall, in Azeroth." My father used to say, us sitting, surrounding him listening intently. "Despite this, evil will always root its ugly head and stay constant."

My mother would smile and my sisters and I would glow with daydreams of being in glorious battles, fighting giants, and ogres and evil creatures of the like, The Legion and rescuing villages and cities from certain doom. All the glory, all the fame. As Goblins, we really couldn't help ourselves.

My youngest sister, Azerieh, took our father's stories and proverbs to heart, listening so intently that she would fall off of her seat in anticipation. She was so excited when he'd tell stories of the heroes he'd watched save entire villages, crush enemies scarier than a Dragon, and yet still be as kind as a Tauren Priestess. She was the most boyish of us all, wrestling with the Everlook boys, brawling and never worrying about getting dirty. A warrior from the forward command in Orgrimmar, despite Goblin's naturally neutral standing, recommended her for the academy, and she jumped at the chance.

Azerieh and I never got along well. She, despite being the youngest, always teased me for being less willing to get my hands dirty. I was the smallest of the four of us, and very sickly as a young kid. But, my older sisters, Crysanthemum and Xaedrienne, would always scold Azerieh and remind her that not everyone was interested in playing in the mud.

Xaedrienne, despite having a gentle nature, took the path of a marksman, a hunter. Almost a spitting image of my father, with emerald green eyes and hair to match, strong cheekbones and a cheeky smile, she, along with Crysanthemum, was considered to be one of the more attractive Goblins that existed in Everlook. Despite this, her hunting skills went unmatched by anyone in the community. She was able to track most animals easily, and she almost never missed.

She was also the most child-like of the four of us, and clung to our mother from a very young age. Our mother tried her best to teach us all about how to survive in a frugal world, how to barter and trade, and to never take a bad deal, no matter how stiff the merchant. She would always emphasize that a good deal would mean the difference between living comfortably and barely getting by. Xaedrienne was very good with money, and our mother was very proud of her. She often passed down those teachings to Azerieh and I when she fully understood, and could explain it all.

Crysanthemum, Xaedrienne's twin, was most likely the strangest of us all. She was quiet, reserved, and caring. Not at all bossy, or nosy, or any of the "Deal-Breaker, Money-Maker" qualities that most goblins were well known for. In fact, Crysanthemum rarely even cared about anything involving money. She never felt the need to gain a profit from anything, all she wanted to do, was give. A strange quality for our race, and it worried our mother very much. You could practically see her biting her nails when Crysanthemum went to purchase food.

Crysanthemum was also odd in looks. Identical to Xaedrienne as far as face, her hair was naturally, a bright lavender hue, that was extremely rare amongst our kind. Many goblins accused her of using magic to seem "prettier" but Crysanthemum could care less about her looks. Despite this, many males courted her, seemingly entranced by her.

Xaedrienne and Crysanthemum took after our father in looks, but had our mother's cunning and charm. It was amazing to watch the two converse with others, they always seemed to speak so seamlessly between one another, oftentimes finishing the other's thought and defending against frugal merchants that would otherwise take advantage of Crysanthemum's lack of financial prowess.

Crysanthemum, Crys, as a lot of us called her, left home on a journey of self-discovery when she was 16. Unlike Xaedrienne and Azerieh, she had not found her professional calling at a young age, as they had. Rather, she felt her calling was outside the goblin community, something unheard of and widely abhorred within Everlook, where one was expected to follow the norm of day in and day out. So naturally, at first this scared our parents.

They had felt that Crysanthemum was… different, even from birth. Her hair wasn't the only indicator of this. Her childlike behaviors, her speech, even the way she walked, from a young age concerned our kin that she would not be right in the head. However, as she aged, Crysanthemum proved several times that she was just as intelligent, if not more so, than many of the goblins in her age group.

At first, mother had suggested that perhaps Crys was meant to take on a normal job, mining, engineering, something easy that would keep her at home and working, contributing to the goblin ecosystem. She used to suggest that perhaps Crys would do menial work such as this until she was ready to settle down and have a family, as she had. Father would gruff from his chair, sniffing at whatever contraption he was tinkering with, and mutter beneath his breath that no goblin was good enough for his precious daughters.

However, Crysanthemum surprised them both by describing her insatiable urge to pursue the Light. Now, no one in Everlook was a complete stranger to the followers of the light. As a trading post, many different kinds of people traveled in and out of Everlook, day in and day out, everything from traders to Heroic travelers, Priests, Warlocks and Warriors alike, all visiting in passing for shelter or trade before making their way onward back to wherever their original destination was. Thus, it was impossible not to know of at the very least, the fabled "Light" and its cult like following.

My parents did what they thought was best, and immediately sought out a priest trainer in Everlook, an older goblin named Corren, and described their daughter's "ailment". The old man begrudgingly agreed to take her in as his apprentice, and at first, Crys seemed satisfied, and elated at the prospect of finally understanding the urges she'd been experiencing, perceivably her whole life.

It became almost immediately apparent that priesthood was not quite what Crysanthemum had been looking to do. Despite having a better understanding of what the Light was and why it was calling to her, Crysanthemum did not explicitly want to heal, and shadow priest was not anywhere near what she seemed to be called to do. In the evenings, Crys would come home, tired and disappointed by her training, and would tell me stories of great warriors that sought the light and wielded it like a shield, or, using a shield, used it to protect others, healing and fighting for justice. The perfect protagonist for the perfect story book. I could see the excitement in her eyes and the spark of joy run through her, only to watch as it extinguished slowly when she realized no one in Everlook had a solution to her problem.

When I was 11 years old, a bath of Horde ambassadors made their way through the snowy plains outside Everlook to make headway into our humble trading post. There were whispers everywhere, and some of the shadier customers had long since disappeared to avoid drawing attention to themselves, and our kinder guests began clearing out their rooms for the esteemed guests. However there were only four Ambassadors that stepped foot into Everlook, and none of them were there for negotiations or barter.

Instead, the four, an Orc Warrior, Tauren Shaman, Troll Rogue, and a Blood Elf Paladin, had come to Everlook to offer training, and passage to Orgrimmar for jobs and missions. They offered their services for only a short time, as they had other areas they had to travel to, but they emphasized that they would do their best to offer quality training above quantity. At first, many of our number seemed to flock to them, asking questions and getting information. But after the first few days, only a few seemed to actually be interesting in studying under any of their tutelage. One of these was my sister Crysanthemum.

Crys was the only one to consistently consort with the Blood Elf Paladin male. During the duration of his stay, she would come home late into the evening, a fire in her eyes that I had never seen before, and a skip in her step that gave her away. She was now, more than ever, truly happy. I myself had been training as a warlock for a little over a year, and I couldn't quite see her seemingly "obsessive" search for the Light, but nevertheless, I was happy for her, and glad that she'd seemingly finally found her calling.

Once the ambassadors took their leave, a noticeable change occurred in Crys. She would spend her nights pouring over tablets and scrolls, learning them as if she was running out of time to memorize their texts. Her days were spent honing her aura, tinkering with metal to create strong shields, and forging swords, swinging them with great ease into training dummies outside the walls. Occasionally I'd stand at a window and watch her, and see a shining aura like a headlamp covering her sword or shield, as if it were embracing her weapons. I was awed by her control, despite having such a short time to work on her skillset.

Goblin teen years were usually fraught with puberty, dating, and job security, namely ensuring continuous training in your field, lest you be cast aside to take side jobs like mining and engineering as your permanent jobs. Then again, someone had to do it, so all in all, it wasn't too bad a gig. I spend my 13th year beginning to learn advanced dark magic, and of course, chasing boys, namely one Lypson Fritzbang, who as a child, had made great fun of my fair hair and amethyst eyes.

Unbeknownst to as all, my sister Crys had begun to pack her bags, and was preparing to rocket to Orgrimmar to further her training. It was done so quietly that I was blindsided when I caught her, bags and weapons in hand, headed to the exit of Everlook, to where a rocked, steamed up and fuming, was parked outside the entrance.

"Crys…" I asked, my heart sinking slowly. "Where are you going?"

My sister turned to look at me, and looked past me, and I realized I wasn't alone. I turned, seeing Azerieh behind me, staring wide-eyed at her sister as she watched me ask our eldest sister the question. I looked back at Crys and suddenly it occurred to me how much older she seemed.

"I have a rocket to catch." She said, gesturing towards the puttering machine. She smiled wistfully, and embraced the two of us together, hugging us tight. "But once my training is complete, I will come back here. Someday." She glanced around the frozen wastes and I felt in my gut that that was as far from the truth as it could get. No one who adventured on Azeroth would want to return to Everlook for any amount of time. Not with luscious jungles, sloping plains and tall mountains and trees to see and explore. Within a moment, she turned away from us, and was gone, her rocket fading into the distance.

Well everyone, its been a very long time since I have written anything. I have been writing this story on paper for a while, and I am just now getting it onto the computer. Hopefully you all will enjoy it as much as I have, and there will be more to come soon!

~Suzuka


	2. Frost and Fog

Here is the second chapter. The story is still ungoing, even on paper, so it may be a while before it is even close to completion. I hope you enjoy, and please, don't forget to review!

Warcraft belongs to Blizzard. :)

At first, my parents were heartbroken. My father was restless, spending extra time at the forge and tinkering in his chair for most of his days. My mother cried the first few nights, staring at the graceful handwriting on the tear soaked paper Crys had left behind. But gradually, they came to accept that children grew up, and eventually, they'd have to leave the nest, and as such, become adults. They understood that it was what Crys felt she had to do.

Xaedrienne, despite it being her twin, was possibly the least upset of all of the siblings. She had accepted that it was the way it was, and that no amount of getting upset would bring Crys back. Being her womb-mate, she knew that deep inside, Crys would have only been happy if she was free to pursue her interest in the light. So she patiently patted our mother's back and helped our father gather gears, and waited on letters to come, bearing the good news that Crys was safe.

Azerieh was a little too young to really understand. Sure, a prodigy in her field, she was more mature for her age than most people gave her credit for. But she didn't understand that Crys was going away for a long time. She'd wait by the door, waiting with her new axes or a sleek new shield, waiting for Crys to come through the door and tell her how proud of her she was. Our mother would weep and try to pull her away from the door.

I, on the other hand, felt so many mixed emotions. Crysanthemum was my mentor, my friend. I felt betrayed, and scared, but at the same time, I was so happy that she'd finally found something that she could feel close to, something she felt like she was contributing to. I couldn't take that away from her by being upset.

A couple years passed. Crysanthemum would send letters describing her travels, and her training, to us in as great detail as she could fit on a few spare parchments of paper. We would wait for the letter to come in, and then mother would read them to us while we all sat around her, just like when we were younger, sitting around our father. It became a ritual that we would do, one that helped heal our hearts of the hurt that we had inside.

Until one day, we received a very short letter. It was rushed, her handwriting not as eloquent as usual, and all it said, was that she wouldn't be able to write for some time, as they, her combat squad, were hunting the local scourge sects popping up in the Plaguelands. It read so rushed that immediately I felt like something wasn't right. My sisters each felt as if I was reading into it too much, and Xaedrienne especially reminded me that Crysanthemum was in a group of well-trained warriors, specifically chosen to combat the scourge. But I couldn't quite quell the feeling in my gut, which told me that there was something wrong.

For one whole year we did not receive one letter. No news, no nothing. It was a dark year, and fear was spreading across all the continents of Azeroth. Reports were cropping up of scourge taint making its way North and South in Kalimdor and the Eastern Plaguelands. The scourge army was appearing everywhere, just as Crys's letters had said, and the threat was becoming hard to ignore. Business in the trading post was becoming slimmer and slimmer and the trade Prince's attitude became more and more sour. Rumors were circulating about a new breed of scourge, labelled "Death Knights" That were not just mindless corpses trying to sink teeth into flesh.

These new creatures were very hyper-aware of their surroundings. They had the whisper of the Lich King in their skulls and they had the ability to think and make decisions. They could seek out entire villages and sense people's presence's from miles away. Travelers passing through Everlook would tell stories about people going missing and coming back from the dead with eyes like ice and armor blacker than night, killing anything living standing in their way.

A consult from Orgrimmar, and one from Stormwind, described them as strong re-animated corpses of "war casualties". Specifically, strong and highly trained warriors of all traits and fields, no matter their class or specialty, could be chosen for reanimation. We were strongly cautioned to swiftly burn and grind the dead, especially anyone who was a master in their field. We were also instructed to report the names of any citizens who had gone missing over the past two years to verify none had been raised.

Disappearances became more and more common and Everlook was facing a lot of fear. Many of the inns were on hiatus and customers became less frequent. It seemed all the soldiers were being sent to Northrend, to stop what they could at the shoreline. Most of the travelers were people who frequented the trading post. My sister's and I found ourselves training hard, preparing to face whatever threat would come upon our town, lest it destroy us at our core.

One day, Xaedrienne came home wearily, her eyes bloodshot and her bow slung haphazardly across her back, her mail armor disheveled and loose. She collapsed into a chair, and instantly dropped her head into her hands, letting out a small sigh, followed by a low sob.

"Xae…" I said slowly, sitting next to her. "What's wrong? You look like you've been crying…" I put my hand on her leg and slowly she lifted her head out of her hands. She looked even worse up close, her pretty features dampened by the crying she'd done.

"These armies are awful, Tristee." She replied, rubbing her forhead. "Today, I saw one of those…. Those Death Knights."

She took a deep breath and she seemed like she wasn't going to continue. But she exhaled slowly and said;

"I… I froze. He was someone I knew!" She hiccupped, her eyes watering. "A fellow Hunter! His eyes were blank and shining this cold blue… like ice. His skin was decayed but you could still tell it was him…"

Her eyes continued to well up and suddenly I felt the uneasiness in my stomach resurface. Was this what we were destined to see? We'd have to see friends, family even? Be killed or show up on our own doorstep, undead? Hostile and trying to kill us?

"I shot him" She said simply, interrupting my thoughts. "He tried to kill me. So I shot him. He didn't even recognize my face. Just… blank. Expressionless. It was like he was this empty capsule that life had been breathed into. It was unnatural. But… When I shot him, and he… died? I guess… It was like a breath of relief was released, and his whole demeanor went from hostile to relieved."

I wasn't sure how to respond to her. I embraced Xaedrienne, fear welling up in my heart. I had a bad feeling, and I knew that soon, I was going to face my own trials. Little did I know how soon it would be.

My platoon was on duty for gate watch the following day, taking over for Xaedrienne's platoon at promptly dawn. Each platoon consisted of close to fifty, each from different classes and specializations, to keep a diverse array of spells in case there were any nullifying barriers or need to a certain type of damage. Mostly, the watches were quiet. Everlook was in the middle of snowy terrain, and not much made its way to this area. However, Xaedrienne's platoon had lost three, and experienced firsthand the power of a Death Knight. I worried that we would not get off easily.

Hello again! Two chapters in a row! I still have a lot to type out, and this chapter is considerable shorter than the first, but the chapters will even out later.

Enjoy!


	3. Festering Wounds

Festering Wounds

That next day was the beginning of the end for the small sheltered world that I had lived in thus far. My Division, specifically chosen for gate guard duty for the weeks end, was on call, jittery and nervous, we tried to stay brave by lighting a fire and telling each other stories of good times when the snow was melted and the land came to life.

It wasn't long into our watch that we received disturbing news. Something massive had tripped a wire explosive that one of the hunter divisions had set on the previous platoons rotation, and it was _still_ coming towards Everlook. Our group wasted no time, quickly grabbing our weapons and running to meet whatever creature had trudged through the wire.

It was disgusting to watch. It was a sick patchwork of skin and organs, plastered onto a giant skeleton, lumbering forward with its dead cataract eyes, unseeing. I heard one of our clothies, most likely Lipsy, vomit and groan. Audible sounds of disgust made their way out of most everyone's mouths, as the creature continued its slow dredge toward us, towering over the tree's that hid our small village. Another shape, however, became apparent, much smaller than the lumbering monstrosity that followed it. Once it came into a breach of light through the trees, I could feel shock reverberate through my body. It was a face I couldn't mistake anywhere; Lypson Fritzbang.

Despite myself, I found my thoughts wandering as I tried to mentally calculate how long it had been since I had even last seen Lypson. It had been quite some time indeed, at least one month. We had been flirting back and forth previously but suddenly one day he just said he was going to travel, something to do with the scourge threat. By the looks of it, he hadn't survived whatever encounter he'd gone and pursued.

My shock grew exponentially when I noticed the shock of blue that his eyes now held. I distinctly remembered that he had had brown eyes, slightly yellowed as was natural for a goblin. But these eyes... no. They were dead. Cold. His skin too embodied death, its tinge no longer the charteuse color I'd come to know. Instead, it was a pale frosted teal, his veins visable like black rivers across his exposed skin. His once vibrant blonde hair was borderline gray, and looked messy and unkempt.

I couldn't help but think it was impossible. He'd only been gone about a month... There was no way that the Lich King could produce Death Knights that quickly. Not to mention someone as strong as Lypson. It was well known how good of a warrior he was. Surely he could resist the whispers of the Lord of the Scourge? He was too full of himself to take orders from anyone else. It just didn't make sense. I couldn't seem to wrap my mind around it.

I was not, as it would happen, the only one who noticed who the face of the Death Knight belonged to. A few gasps came from some of our number, and more wretching was heard, while the group tried to comprehend the depth of what we were seeing right before out eyes.

One of our number, one Fritz Steelwedge, staggered forward in shock. I stood, paralyzed in shock as he made his way forward to meet the undead goblin.

"Lypson?" He asked, raising his hands defensively, as if to surrender. "I-Is that you? Hey, buddy are you in there?" I suddenly remembered what Xaedrienne had described to me the day before, and I witnessed it in horror as right before my eyes, with no expression crossing his face, Lypson charged forward, sinking a thick sword directly into Fritz's chest.

I didn't even have a chance to register a warning on my lips. The words sat useless on my tongue as Fritz gargled on his own blood, while Lypson, no, the Death Knight, turned the sword counterclockwise in a sickeningly slow manner, squelching and sending Fritz to his knees, the disturbing gurgling loud in the silence around us.

I noticed something foul and gaseous seem to seep out of Fritz's body where the sword had struck him, and I instantly knew we needed to get away from him. He would not survive the blow he'd received, and we would undoubtedly be next. I watched helplessly as Fritz's once green skin slowly turned grey with death and disease.

"RUN!" I heard Lipsy, our queasy stomaced Priest shout. "RUN NOW BEFORE IT SPREADS TO US!"

Everyone began scrambling, tripping and stumbling over one another in order to escape. Except for myself and one other. We stood, unmoving against our adversary, the goliath and its keeper.

Copper, the goblin that had stayed behind, scrunched his nose and I saw his scar pucker.

"We can't let that... thing... into the city." Copper said, his voice steady despite the obvious undertones of fear and... grief. "Even if its our lives. It's what we swore to do... Isn't it?"

I stared at Copper sadly. His eyes, naturally a deep mahogany red color, were now glazed over and rimmed red with stress. Lypson was his brother. I quickly realized that no family would be exempt from this pain. This horror that was the Lich King. Not until he was brought to justice. Not until he drew his last breath. And even then... how many families would discover their loved ones had been changed into these... mindless shells of their former existance? How many more people would die before the Lich King would finally meet his end? Finally end the suffering of so many?

"It is." I replied begrudginly, turning my attention back to the Death Knight and his pet. "Are you sure... you can handle it?"

I wasn't sure I was expecting him to reply. Even if I had, I wasn't surprised when he chose not to respond, instead opening his spellbook, his eyes illuminating with holy light. He breathed words over the pages, his fingers tracing ancient text, as he fixated his gaze on the large behemoth.

"Shadow Word: Pain!" He casted. The beast roared in fury and Lypson's attention was suddenly drawn from Fritz's corpse, to us.

I quickly drew a scroll from my belt and chanted a quick spell, summoning my Voidlord servant, Galaton, to assist us in battle. The grumbling demon sent his yearning gaze towards my neck but I stared him down quickly and he submitted, though I could sense in his mind his distaste and disappointment.

"Galaton, Defend!" I ordered, queuing up a cast for an incineration spell. Galaton obliged, albeit halfheartedly, and intercepted the Death Knight, forcing him to redirect his attention yet again. I sent my incineration spell flying, and it hit the behemoth square in the chest, seemingly absorbing into its grotesque mass.

It seemed as if no spell we shot at the creature would even begin to hurt it. But out of nowhere, flames began to errupt from the creatures chest, spreading across its torso like wildfire.

"Its workin!" Copper called out, His hair frazzled and unkempt as he ran to avoid the Death Knight's blade. "We can't stop now!"

I nodded, willing more mana to recharge a chaos bolt. It was dense and powerful magic, but was a spell that required a lot of focus. In the end, it did the damage necessary to get the job done.

As I was charging my spell, I noticed out of my peripheral that Lypson was repeatedly attempting to pass Galaton to attack either myself or Copper. He wasn't even trying to attack my Voidlord, merely trying to duck and weave around it. I willed myself to focus harder on te behemoth. Once the creature was thoroughly... dead, we could focus on taking care of Lypson.

I felt a sudden spark of power, a heat beneath my findernails, indicating that the chaos bolt was ready to be sent flying. I aimed carefully, knowing I would only have one chance to get a clear shot, and sent the spell flying, square on the creature's chest. I prayed that its mark would be true.

It was. The behemoth stopped, staggering blindly before lurching forward to fall to the ground, dead. It shook the ground and knocked Copper and I off of our feet. The festering flesh sizzled and I found it hard not to gag at the overwhelming stench coming off of the thing.

Unfortunately, Lypson took this same oppurtunity to roll away from Galaton, who had been distracted by my fall, and charged straight for me, his cold blue eyes freezing me in place, whatever spell or enchantment I had had on my lips, gone.

"Tristee, Look out!" Copper shouted, running towards me. He needen't have told me, however. I could see Lypson's route clearly. It was like a nightmare that I couldn't quite wake from. His dead flesh chilled me to my very core, and I could feel the fear seeping into ever fiber of my being.

However, Lypson stopped unexpectedly. His sword, still dripping with Fritz's blood, was merely inches from my face, and yet he had not thrusted the sword into my body. I took this momentary lapse as a miracle and rolled from beneath him, scrambling away and towards Copper.

"Lypson?" Copper asked cautiously, his tome and wand held tightly in his hands. Lypson turned very, very slowly to face his brother. I was shocked to see that, for a split moment, his face was not expressionless. There was shock, and confusion. He was still in there somewhere... he had to be!

But this was fleeting. He reassumed his stance and charged again, this time, his sword was aimed low, towards our hearts. And this time, I was ready.

"FEAR" I countered, sending Lypson involuntarily into the opposite direction, his dead echoed groaning a clear indicator that even the dead could fear. He may have been dead, or undead but he wasn't immune to this ancient demon magic. No one was.

"NOW COPPER!" I shouted, preparing one last chaos bolt. I could feel my mana draining quickly and I knew if this didn't hit the mark... well, at least we'd taken down the Goliath. Copper nodded in understanding and casted a slowing spell, preparing a strong spell also, watching his brother struggle to resist with a torn expression.

"Cleanse!" He roared, tears streaming from his eyes as he smited his own flesh and blood. Lypson screeched and staggered back, his hands shot to his head and he dropped to his knees in what I assumed to be excruciating pain. I hesitated, but knew what I had to do. I sent the chaos bolt flying, directly to his chest, knocking him back, unmoving to the ground.

For a moment, neither Copper nor I moved. Then, the both of us scrambled over to the slumped over form of what once was Lypson.

"C-Copper?" I was taken aback by the strange undertones in Lypson's voice. He still sounded as he had months prior, but with a strange, dark echo beneath his voice, as if someone, or something else, were there as well.

"Lypson..." Copper said, lifting his brother's head gently, brushing the hair from his face. "What happened to you?" Lypson's eyes shifted to seemingly look far away.

"It was so... dark..." He said, his voice barely a whisper. He turned to look at me. His eyes, the vibrant blue from before, were slowly fading. "I'm sorry... Tristee... I..." He lifted a finger to my cheek, and all I felt was cold.

"Thank you... for... releasing me... of... my... bonds..." A faint smile befell his lips, and his eyes shut. He exhaled, a burst of cold air, but no attempt was made to intake more. He had breathed his last, and had finally had his final rest.

As it was ingrained in us to do in such times, we gathered Fritz's body and Lypson's, setting them upon a pyre and setting them ablaze, staring into the embers as they ate away the memories of what our comrades had once been. The behemoth had to be hacked up into several pieces, but neither Copper nor I felt it would be right to burn the monstrosity on the same pyre as our friends and family. We gathered the pieces and created a seperate burning pile for its patchwork body to be laid to rest.

We headed back to camp in silence, neither wishing to talk about what we had witnessed, what we had seen. I glanced at Copper, sensing that he was troubled. I couldn't find the words to comfort him, however, and instead, remained silent as we walked, leaving my thoughts to wander into even darker corridors of my mind.

...

 **Well there you have it folks! Chapter three of my Goblin adventure story. So, as a quick review, this story mainly follows one of four points of view. Tristee, Azerieh or Crysanthemum (in first person) or a third person narrative. I will try to make it obvious who is speaking at what parts at least once during each sequence, and if not it will be labeled so that it is obvious who is speaking. I hope you all enjoy and I hope that you stick with it!**

 **3**


	4. Impossibilities

Impossibilities

My thoughts took an even darker undertone as we neared the camp, which was bustling far more than usual for such a late hour. No doubt a result of most of our division running back in cowardice. I realized I had left Galaton free to feed off of my simmering dark thoughts and quickly banished him away before he could get too excited. An excited Voidlord was the last thing I needed to bring into the platoon with so much panic going on.

Lipsy was waiting, anxiously twisting and wringing her hands, at the entrance to the compound when she spotted us as we made our way to the front gate. She looked surprised, more so than perhaps she should have been, but nevertheless took a few steps forward.

"Is it dead?" She asked, her voice squeaking. "Did you guys kill it?"

I couldn't fathom the nerve of this girl, and for a moment, I imagined kicking her shin or wrapping my fingers around her neck. How dare she ask such a thing, when she and everyone else had left their post and abandoned Copper and I to save their own hides. Despite Goblins generally being known for only what we're paid to do, this was an honor thing. They showed true cowardice, and it had taken its toll.

But before I could even open my mouth to give the girl a piece of my mind, Copper brushed past her roughly, sending her off balance and tumbling to her backside.

"Yes, no thanks to you." Copper spat, continuing his path without so much as a backward glance. Satisfied with this, I quickly chased after Copper, my anger slowly simmering to allow the logic to pull through.

"Hey..." I said, keeping pace with him as he walked. I didn't want to leave Copper with him being in such a foul mood. It wouldn't end well for some poor soul who tried to mess with him. "I don't think she meant any harm by it... She was just scared." I paused, hating myself for defending her. She and the others basically left us to die. But I could understand. If only infinitesimally. "No one has ever really encountered something like that. Only so much training can prepare you for... for something so sick." Copper sighed heavily, and his shoulders slumped forward.

"Regardless, Tristee." He replied wearily. "They still ran in the face of duty. All of Everlook could have been destroyed. Many lives were at stake. It's our duty as the first line of defense to protect what we can. It's low to break that honor code just to save your own skin."

I couldn't find it in myself to disagree with him. What good was your word if when the time finally came to test your valor, and you were found to be a true coward, going back on your word and your vows. I shook my head, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"I understand how you feel, Copper." I said in as soothing a voice as I could muster. He tensed up and I could almost feel the rage pulsing from his very being.

"Do you though?" He accused me, whipping around to face me, his eyes burning with anger. I recoiled in shock. "Have you lost family to the scourge? A mother? A brother? Have you watched your own flesh and blood try to kill you and your comrades again and again? Have you had to watch the breath leave your best friend as you realize the true horror that the Lich King brings?" I couldn't respond, the dark feeling that had been consuming me for weeks suddenly returning, with more force. It was suffocating. I could feel a paralyzing fear making its way through my body. I managed to take a step back and my hand fell uselessly to my side, my eyes wide as I studied Copper.

His eyes were angry, and yet so sad as well. He was grieving and he didn't know how to release his anger. I understood it. I decided to wait to reply until he had calmed down. It would do no good to attempt to talk him down while he was like this.

Copper sighed and his whole body seemed to slump in helplessness, his brow furrowed as if in deep thought. He looked up at me apologetically.

"I'm sorry Tris." He said, scratching the back of his neck. "That was... uncalled for. You didn't deserve that anger. It's not for you... Its for that monster..." He groaned, clutching his cloak tighter around his shoulders.

"I just... I never thought, I never thought it would be him? Ya know?" He sniffed, and I relaxed, pulling him into an embrace. Not truly my forte, but I could tell he needed it. "He was so strong... and brave... Braver than I was. I didn't have it in me to answer the call for more troops to head to the Plaguelands. But he did. He knew it would be tough. He knew there were risks but he still... He still went. I envied his bravery." I released Copper, and he seemed to be slightly better, his eyes still rimmed red.

I nodded in understanding. It was a scary thing, to see someone no longer have control of themselves, to kill in the name of a man who wanted nothing more than the destruction of all of Azeroth. I deliberated momentarily, then asked, " If you want... I can go talk to Commander Dos?" Copper looked at me questioningly but I shook my head, smiling slightly.

"I'll let him know what happened. You need time to... to yourself." I said, trying to be sensitive. I knew he truly did need time to himself. He needed the grieving period. Talking to Commander Dos would likely make things a little worse. Copper nodded appreciately, giving me a small salute before disappearing back towards his rack. I stood for a moment before going in the opposite direction towards the commander tent.

Commander Dos was a tall, muscular Goblin with dark pine colored skin. His head was bald and he'd grown his beard out enough to reveal that he had once had a full head of ebony hair. His eyes were a striking blood red color, and could almost pierce anyone who looked into them. He'd been Commander for a long time, and it was obvious why. His battle scars weren't the only indicator. His whole demeanor commanded respect. He had seen many things, and he had done many too. Despite this, he was still relatively young, only 27 years. Seven years Xaedrienne and Crysanthemum's senior.

I approached his tent leisurely. Commander Dos and I always got along pretty well, and him being in charge of my particular unit was even better. But as I came closer, I could hear other voices in his tent, and I realized he was not alone. Sneaking closely as I could without notice, I began to listen in halfway through the conversation.

"How many are accounted for?" I heard Commander Dos ask, his voice strained. A gruff noise was heard before what I assumed to be a troll replied.

"Sixteh-Fah from each ah da factions, mon." She said. I moved outside the entrance flap to the tent to see a toll female troll, male Tauren and a silent Night Elf standing around the table where I knew a map of Kalimdor to be. "But dat be on'y a small portion. Both sides 'ave many more missin' an not accounted fah." I heard Dos groan and saw his hand shift some papers around.

"What about possible... turns?" He asked. The Tauren stepped closer to his desk.

"Around forty." He responded, rummaging around a small sack that was attached to his belt. "Not to mention twenty from everlook alone that have gone missing and are unaccounted for. These all could have been turned, or have been confirmed turns already." I heard Dos groan again, his frustration evident in his tone.

"This is a disaster. At the rate this is all going, we're going to cause widespread panic." He said. The Night elf ambassador stepped forward, his yellow eyes narrowing.

"This knowledge should only be given out on a need to know basis to prevent an outbreak of panic." He said, his voice low and soothing. I felt my stomach drop low. Something wasn't right. Keeping secrets from citizens was sketchy enough, but full spread panic?

"Are there any in particular that we need to be... aware of? So to speak?" Dos asked. I could hear him now pacing around, a nervous habit of his. The Tauren produced two parchments, one small and one long, and handed them to the Commander.

"These are the current lists. I've reviewed them myself, they are accurate." He told Dos, pointing to the smaller of the lists.

"Those ones are the ones you should really be worried about. I highly suggest you get familiar with their faces. You'll need all of your commanding officers and highest security details to know those four."

"Why?" Dos asked, his face paler than I think I'd ever seen it. "Why are these four so special? Aren't all Death Knights relatively dangerous?"

"In a manner of speaking." The Night Elf replied, crossing his arms thoughtfully. "They all carry the whisper of death in their ears. But those four... Those four in particular are far more dangerous than all the rest." I could feel my heart pounding in my chest as I contemplated this. Copper and I had just witnessed such a show of power. I wondered if Lypson was on the list that Dos held in his hand. Lypson and Dos had been good friends years ago, both Warriors, and had undergone training together before ultimately seperating to continue their work on seperate paths.

"In short mon, dey destroyed entire batallions. Each ah dem." The troll cut in. " De've killed thousands. Dah blood on dere hands is enough tah be a warnin' of whats tah come wit dah Lich King's rise." My heart nearly stopped in my chest. An entire battalion? Just one Death Knight? There was no way. There had to be a mistake. I could even fathom that many people dying in one sitting. Not all at once.

"They're lethal, cold blooded, and dangerous." The Tauren added for emphasis. "If anyone should encounter them... Its been directed not to engage, but to retreat and report immediately to the next higher command." I could see Dos's face now, scrunched in thought. He looked as though this information had punched him in the gut. I knew it was time for me to make my presense known, so I stepped away from the tent and cleared my throat, delibrately making my footsteps loud.

The tent flap opened and Commander Dos stepped out, looking surprised to see me.

"Tristee? Is there something I can help you with?" I hesitated, unable to remember for a moment why I had come in the first place, my mind still reeling from what I'd overheard. The three visitors were peaking out of the tent, scrutinizing me as I stood there akwardly.

"I, um..."I stammered, wracking my brain out of its stupor. "Copper and I... we just got back from the forrest entrance. A Scourge Behemoth and Death Knight were attempting to pass through towards Everlook. Copper and I took them down." I sounded more egotistical than perhaps was necessary, but I didn't like the looks the ambassadors were throwing my way, and I wanted to make it clear that I could handle myself. Dos looked very surprised and I could tell that wasn't what he was expecting to hear.

"So wait... you two, took down the Behemoth and a Death Knight... where was the rest of your division?" I recoiled, worried about the backlash this would cause for the others. Deciding to be kind, I merely replied that they had come back to warn the camp. Commander Dos seemed to see right through me, but chose not to call me out on my lie, instead seeming to think about something.

"Did you..." He paused, seeming to think about what he was going to ask. "Did you recognize the Death Knight, Tristee?" I had known he was going to want that information, but I wasn't prepared for the feeling in my chest when I pictured Lypson, his face decayed and emotionless. I knew my face betrayed me and I sighed heavily.

"Lypson Fritzbang." I replied, hanging my head low. I didn't look up as I added. "He killed Fritz Steelwedge." Dos groaned and I looked up to see him massaging his forhead.

"Oh no..." He said under his breath. "How is Copper doing?" I didn't answer for a moment, unable to justify putting out Coppers business.

"I think he will be... eventually." I settled for instead. I looked at the Commander honestly. "Right now though... I doubt he's even close to being alright." Dos nodded in understanding, the expression on his face unchanging.

" Very well." He replied. "You and Copper are relieved for the night. I'll locate someone from your division to take the remainder of your shifts. Will you do me a favor and notify Copper, please?" I nodded, saluting carefully and taking a step back.

"Will do sir." I turned and walked briskly away, ignoring the obvious staring that I was receiving from our guests. I felt less than satisfied and was still feeling sick to my stomach, the feeling of dread not fully leaving me.

I walked toward Coppers tent, which was illuminated with a soft lantern. His rackmate was snoring, half off his cot, while Copper was sitting crosslegged on the ground, his stature brooding.

"Hey, Copper." I called into the tent. Copper started, looking up at me and quickly scrambling up to leave the tent.

"What is it?" He asked, his voice sounding hoarse. I struggled to keep the pity off my face.

"Hey um, Commander Dos said you and I are relieved of duty for the night." I said. "You can go home... Maybe spend some time with your family? I don't know, I don't want to tell you what to do or anything-" Copper hugged me and held my shoulders to get a good look at my face.

"Thank you, Tris." He said. "I really appreciate it." He quickly rummaged around the tent, grabbing his belongings and throwing them into a bag, placing it on his back. He waved and hurried on towards Everlook. I watched him go and went to my tent to follow suit.

Once I arrived at my house, I trudged, suddenly exsausted into bed, and layed facedown into the sheets, drifting into a lulled sleep.

...

 **Hello Everyone! Here's a little bit of a longer chapter! I hope its pretty good and it's really starting to get into the story now! Enjoy!**


	5. Whispers

Whispers

I awoke screaming, my voice sharp and hoarse, my breath labored and inconsistent. I clutched my chest, eyes wide, peering into the darkness as if something had been staring at me. I heard a shuffle of footsteps outside my door and a fiddling with the handle, before a light temporarily blinded me, and Xaedrienne, still clad in her leather armor, was shown standing in my doorway, face taught with concern.

"Is… are you okay?" She asked, slowly, cautiously, as if she were afraid of me. I took a deep breath to calm myself. It had been such a lucid dream…

I shook my head but couldn't find my voice to answer. Figuring this was the case, Xaedrienne made her way to the bed and sat down next to me, her posture gentle and eyes filled with empathy. I could feel my hands shaking. I pushed them into the blankets to hide my trembling.

"Do you want to talk about it?" She asked, her body language conveying that she wasn't trying to pry, merely to be an ear if I needed it. I had always appreciated Xaedrienne for this reason. She never tried to be overbearing. She was subtle. As was her nature. I suppose it was only natural, considering her line of work. I steeled myself, wondering if I did indeed want to talk about it. It was something I hadn't expected. I didn't get them. They didn't happen to me. I looked into Xaedrienne's green eyes.

"It was a nightmare." I replied slowly, allowing the reality to sink in. Xaedrienne's reaction was exactly how I expected it to be. She sucked in a breath, her eyes wide and posture suddenly tense.

Warlock training, though unusually rigorous, had its benefits. Part of the training that I'd received, was locking my mind prior to sleeping, to prevent nightmares and dark thoughts from creating a weak link that a demon could exploit, if it found it. This was essential. Many minions, Imps especially, were not smart creatures, and would not think to exploit a dream to weaken the painful link that bonded them to servitude. But there were other, stronger demons that hate servitude enough to actively search for an out, usually found through any kind of mental exhaustion, especially nightmares, they could break their master's shackles.

As such, we were trained to clear our minds of all doubts, of all fears associated with demons. They were pawns, servants, nothing more. To think of anything else associating with them would give them an easy target. I was very good at this particular training, as were most goblins I suppose, due to our natural deal-making mentality. That being said, I hadn't had any nightmares in close to four years. Four years was long enough to forget the depth of the mental exhaustion which could wrack one's mind when confronted by images such as death, torture, gore… and much more.

Xaedrienne had been the first to ask back then, wondering why I slept so easily despite a malevolent figure being in such proximity. I always had been able to reply, "No nightmares, no issues." So proud was I of my control. But this time… I couldn't find any reason to be prideful.

"You don't get nightmares." Xaedrienne said blankly, doubt on her face. She was remembering our conversations in years passed. I nodded, knowing this was going to be a conversation that I couldn't avoid.

"I just did." I replied, my voice shaking. Xaedrienne scooted closer to me, placing a hand on my shoulder gently, as if to keep me from getting startled. She gestured for me to continue wordlessly, and I sucked in another breath, wondering truly where to begin.

"I saw Crysanthemum… she had come home." I began, vividly recalling the nightmare's beginning. A figure among the mist, the silhouette unmistakable. Crysanthemum had a very particular build, and she was a bit taller for a goblin, though not much. Her purple hair stuck out like a sore thumb, despite the darkness and haze that surrounded me in this dream.

"But… she wasn't herself." I continued. "Something was off… wrong." I remembered her walking closer to me, her gait not familiar, despite knowing it was her. Clutched in her hand was a thick, heavy looking sword, easily larger than she was, holding it up as if it weighed no more than a feather. As she came closer to me, I could begin to distinguish more about her. Her amour in particular was noteworthy, not pristine and clear like most paladin armor. Instead, the armor was almost as black as night, with frosty blue accents that made her seem eerily cold. It covered every inch of her body and it too looked heavy.

"Her skin was so pale, her eyes…" I stopped. When Crysanthemum had stepped into the small beam of light in my nightmare, I had been struck by an innate fear, unable to move myself, unable to speak, or rouse myself from the dream. Her skin was pale, streaks of black beneath the skin that looked like silkwebs splayed across her face, especially prominent around a set of striking blue eyes.

"She was a death knight!" I blurted out, recoiling into my bed hastily. "And I just stood there… unable to move. Paralyzed with fear." I was in the nightmare again, reliving the cold gaze of those frost-laden eyes, feeling their cold depths freeze the very core of my soul. "But she didn't move… at least at first." Xaedrienne seemed enraptured by my tale, not speaking, her eyes wide as she looked at me.

"I… I called her name, I was hoping to, well… I'm not honestly sure what I was hoping. To maybe ask her if she was okay?" A dry laugh found its way from my mouth. "As if a Death Knight would be okay. And when I called her name…" I paused, feeling a lump forming in my throat. Xaedrienne seemed to recover slightly, placing her hand on mine, steadying the shaking.

"Then?" She asked, her voice sounding terrified, as if the nightmare had been her own. I could feel a cold sensation deep in the pit of my stomach.

"She…" I felt it again. I sharp pain in my stomach as if the pain was real. "She thrusted her sword into my stomach and whispered into my ear…" I paused, not knowing if I should reveal the last part. Xaedrienne already looked pretty distraught. I could practically feel the cold steel of the blade penetrating my body, hear the short breathing that came from my dead sister's mouth as her cold eyes watched the life drain from my body emotionlessly. I watched as she neared my ear, her hand tight around the blade, as if it were an extension of her very being. Her lips parted, and with a slight smirk, hoarse words, a dark, malevolent echo behind her voice, she said;

"For the Lich King."

For a few moments, there was no sound. I could feel the tension in the air, palpable, and it was this moment that I took to look out my window, shocked to see it was still night. I hadn't been asleep long. Most likely a product of what I'd experienced earlier in the night, this was easily the most disturbing of any dream I'd ever had before. Xaedrienne looked as if she was in deep thought. It struck me that she too had just recently witnessed the aftermath of a Death Knight. What they were capable of. Who they were, and who they'd become.

It occurred to me very suddenly, and I felt fear again strike my heart. I looked at Xaedrienne in a panic, and I saw a flash of recognition in her expression when I began to ask, "You don't think she-"

"Don't." She cut off firmly, her hand clenched and eyes still wide, calculating. "Don't say that. Don't even think it." But I knew I wouldn't be able to help myself. How long had it been since we'd heard from her? Over a year? I was silent, buried deep in my own thoughts. We both knew what this could mean. How it could pan out.

I remembered the conversation I'd overheard at the camp, the guest's that Commander Dos had had, and was struck with an idea, one risky, but attainable.

"I could find out, you know." I said casually, picking at my nails absentmindedly, waiting for Xaedrienne to take the bait. Xaedrienne wasn't stupid. If I just presented the idea, she wouldn't go for it. Especially if it involved deception. But this opportunity was simply too great to pass up. I watched the struggle of curiosity cross Xaedrienne's face, before a sigh of defeat.

"How?" She asked, unable to control her curiosity.

"I overheard Commander Dos talking to a bunch of ambassadors as I was checking out for the night." I told her, careful to leave out any extra details. "They seemed pretty important, probably from Orgrimmar and Stormwind. Anyway, they were giving intel to Commander Dos, a list. A list of names." I watched her expression change from confusion to understanding fairly quickly, knowing what I was leading into. "It's mostly comprised of missing persons, but only ones they've got confirmed sightings on. Confirmed scourge. Confirmed Death Knights, even." I said, a plan already forming in my mind.

"In addition to that… There's another list. One even shorter than the other one." I said, again retrieving her attention. "A list of very powerful Death Knights, that have taken on and defeated entire batallions… on their own." I felt like I was telling a dark, scary story, but instead of a small shout of "boo!" and a good laugh, there was nothing but seriousness and the air was thick with fear.

"Entire… Batallions?" Xaedrienne said in shock. "That's… that's impossible! One person against a thousand?" She was standing before I even knew what was happening. "No person can do that. Especially against trained soldiers. There's no way." I stood also, grabbing my robes and quickly donning them.

"Apparently it is not impossible." I replied, pulling on my gloves. "I can't think of a reason that they'd lie about something like that Xae. Besides, they very adamantly reminded the commander that those individuals in particular were not to be engaged in combat. Something you don't do just because." Xaedrienne didn't reply immediately, so I took that moment to pull on my sandals, pulling a few old scrolls off my wall and tying them to my belt. I took a moment to glance at my sister, and could have almost laughed at the bewildered expression on her face, were it not for the situation.

"How hard would it be for you to procure it?" She asked slowly, as if she was still thinking about whether or not she wanted to get involved. I knew all it would take was a little distraction, I could infiltrate quickly.

"Not too hard, I don't think." I responded. "I just need… a little distraction." Xaedrienne looked at me, puzzled, and for the first time this night, I smiled.

...

Here's another chapter for you all! I am trying to keep pretty consistent with it, though between legion's launch and work, I've been pretty preoccupied. I have so many plans for this story and I just can't wait to share it! Thanks for reading, and I hope that you are enjoying it so far!


	6. Dread and Darkness

Dread and Darkness

We came upon the encampment within minutes, the activity from before long since ceased, and most of the camp quiet, save for the two guards chatting at the front and some shuffling within the tents. I knelt down and pulled a scroll from my belt, summoning an observer, a quirky fellow named Kail'mexx, whose distaste for me was almost equal to his hunger for memories. This particular observer had a unique capability. It hungered for knowledge, but not of the normal sort that you got from books, or word of mouth. No, it hungered for other people's knowledge. Sucking it from their very brain in an attempt to create disorientation. The gluttonous creature had a flaw however, and once sated was easily overcome by my will, falling to my bidding due to its insatiable need to feed.

It was quite a handy creature. I merely controlled how much it consumed, and I was easily able to confuse people into forgetting why they'd seen me, or if they'd even seen me at all. It was imperative that the guards forgot us going in, and coming out.

It didn't take much convincing on Xaedrienne's side to go on with my plan. Despite her protests to the contrary, I had a small inclination that she was secretly crushing on my division commander, and it was this advantage I was counting on. Because he too was attracted to my sister.

Her whole job was to distract Commander Dos long enough to leave his tent, and allow me access to his documents. It was a long shot, but if she could get him away, it would give me enough time to make a copy of the lists and get out before he knew anything had happened. The only issue, was that guards were instructed not to allow other members of other divisions, or civilians, onto the premises without a reason and an escort. I didn't have a high enough clearance to get in with Xaedrienne in tow, but her clearance was higher than mine. I was hopeful that this combined would be enough to get in without a fuss.

I was mostly banking on this working out for about five to ten minutes max. Commander Dos may have a crush on Xaedrienne, but he's a business man through and through. He would only stay distracted so long, before returning to his desk to complete whatever work he was doing. Xaedrienne had already been informed of this, and was silently pondering how to approach the man. If I could get at least five minutes, it would be enough to pick out Crysanthemum's name from a list of sixty-something names. Her name was unusually long, and uncommon, for a goblin. We as a race were stereotypically obsessed with short names with lots of strange letters.

As we inched closer to the camp, I could feel a sense of dread drop into the pit of my stomach. If there was ever a time for second thoughts, now was it. For a brief moment, I imagined turning heal and just forgetting the whole thing and staying in blissful ignorance. But… the curiosity ate at me. If her name was on the list… What then? But then… what if it wasn't? There was only two outcomes it seemed, and I couldn't justify leaving the information behind, to wait until it became public knowledge and find out like everyone else.

No. We had to do this. We had to find out. I felt a gentle hand on my shoulder and looked to see Xaedrienne looking at me, her gaze kind.

"No matter what we find Tris," She said, looking determined. "We will get through it. Together. All of us, as a family." I swallowed hard and nodded. It was time to do business.

We straightened up and walked towards the front entrance, making it obvious to the guards that we were intending to head in. As they should have, they both moved to block the exit, weapons at the ready.

"Tristee?" The left guard, Tacham, a Young Tauren said, lowering his staff slightly. "I thought you were relieved for the night?" I silently cursed myself for so brazenly heading out of the compound, knowing it caused it to be obvious that I had left because Commander Dos had let me go after our ordeal.

But I recovered quickly, steeling myself and answering, "I was. But I need to speak with Commander Dos. My sister, Xaedrienne Hexknot of division six has some intel that her division would like to share. However… she needs an escourt." Both guards were rather new to the postion, and I was not surprised to see them both shrug in apparent aquiescence, and move aside.

"Very well, proceed." The Troll said, waving us on in with his polearm. As carefully as we could be, we walked right in, my observer leering at the two guards hungrily. I gave an infinitesimal nod of the head and I felt it begin to channel the minds of the two guards. I sternly limited it to just a few moments, and I could feel it grumbling in irritation.

Finding our way to commander Dos' tent was not a difficult task. Neither was it difficult to meld into the shadows while Xaedrienne stood outside the tent, brushing off her leather gear nervously. I shot her a look and she sent me one back apologetically, standing tall and deliberately stepping loudly outside his tent. I heard shuffling of papers and scraping of a stood against the ground and Xaedrienne cleared her throat.

"Dos?" Xaedrienne said, her voice high and chirpy. I could hear his scrambling footsteps and I imagined him falling over himself trying to get to the entrance to his tent quickly. I watched the flap open and Dos practically stumble out, recovering rather quickly, his eyes wide and smile on his face. Xaedrienne's face was slightly blushed, and I found it very hard not to laugh.

"Xaedrienne!" He responded excitedly. "To what do I owe this pleasure?" I knew he had a crush on her, but I hadn't realized the depth of it. He was completely shameless. And to make it worse, Xaedrienne seemed to bask in it.

"Oh, I just thought I would stop by." She said, bumping his arm playfully. "Perhaps we could take a quick walk around, maybe… discuss some things?" Dos didn't need convincing it seemed, the delight on his face unmistakable. He rubbed his hands together and held out his hand to the left, the opposite direction that I was sitting in.

"O-of course! This way!" He said, the excitement in his voice nearly palpable. The two turned heel and walked away, chatting quietly as they walked. Once they were a safe distance away, I darted into the tent and made an immediate beeline for the desk.

I was surprised at just how neat and orderly Dos' desk actually was. There were many a time where I took him for the sort of goblin that was messy at home, since he was well put together outside and in the work environment. Although this technically did count as work. Everything was organized as an inbox and outbox, with important documents off to the side, secured with a smooth paperweight that probably cost quite a bit of gold.

Nothing seemed to immediately catch my eye as a list however, and the important documents pile did not have the paperwork at the top. I scratched my head, thinking about what Dos would have done with the paperwork, when I saw a thicker parchment sticking out from the pile ever so slightly, enough to tip me off that this was where I could find what I was looking for. I did a quick listen for Dos or Xaedrienne's voice, and then quickly tugged on the thick paper, pulling it cleanly from the stack.

The list was handwritten and looked as though several hands had written it, rather than one person. To make matters worse, the names were not listed in any particular order, and there were a lot of them. Something in my brain reminded me that there was a second list, one with the names of the Death Knights who had taken out entire battalions. I paused my scan of the original list to find the other paper.

I moved the stack aside to where I'd found the first parchment and lo and behold, a smaller slip of paper was lying on the stack, a mere four names listed.

My curiousity could not be contained, and I picked up the list, slowly running my eyes across the names one by one, the sense of dread almost paralyzing as I read;

"Illudari Dawntusk"

"Aktemi of the Darkspear"

"Anoram Qeldal'el"

When my eyes befell the final name on the short list, the paper fell from my hands and I, in horror, watched as the last name on the paper seemed to pop out, separated in my mind from the others. My mind was blank, the terror that I'd felt in the knots in my stomach a sickening reality, as if it were a cruel joke. The words seemed to taunt me, blurring my vision and dulling the sound around me as the text floated across my eyes as if burned there for eternity;

"Crysanthemum Hexknot"

...

A slightly shorter chapter this time around, but I promise I'll try to keep the chapters coming as frequently as possible! Please enjoy!


	7. Fallen Light

Fallen Light

"Hey Crys, a little help over here?"

I heard Rantok calling to me from the starboard side of the ship, his gruff voice welcome amidst the endless space of sea before us. I broke from my daydream, rolling up my inventory list and pocketing it, before helping to grab a few boxes that Rantok could not grab with his hands full. I followed him below decks where he deposited the boxes just outside the berthing, wiping the sweat from his brow.

Our travels had been long and everyone was eager to make port in the Plaguelands, despite knowing what was awaiting us there. Our journey had a purpose, one we'd been briefed upon many a time since setting foot on the ship from Kalimdor. Andorhal. A small but essential village, one that housed the Forsaken, once servants of the Lich King, but now freed under the wing of their queen, Sylvannas Windrunner, the Banshee Queen, it stood nestled in a quaint forest area in the Plaguelands.

It would seem however that the scourge was not pleased that it had lost so many a number to the freedom of the living, or what was close enough to at any rate, and had laid siege to the small village, killing many and infesting the area like ants.

Our job as the Argent Dawn was to exterminate as much of the scourge as possible from the area, and nothing more. We were a neutral party, and would not support either side in the faction claim that was laid upon the city as well. We were going there merely to prevent more unnecessary death. Our justice would only be exacted upon those with intentions to harm any life on Azeroth, not just the lives of the Horde or the Alliance. Those wars would be fought clean of our hands. We did our best to avoid faction wars altogether, but sometimes it was hard to do.

"Thanks, Crysanthemum." Rantok said, smiling in his devilish face. "You're a real doll." I rolled my eyes playfully, smacking the rolling muscles on his arm. It was no secret to anyone that Rantok and I were… together. Sort of.

We had met during the trails for team placement. The Argent Dawn prided itself on well trained acolytes and paladins and warriors to fill its ranks and assist the world with whatever problem it had. It had a strict and rigid militant structure, every sect and battalion containing a particular amount of each type of warrior, paladin or priest, to carry out its missions. Each battalion would be labeled by a letter and number combination that determined where that particular division would go. Prior to being placed, one had to undergo months, even years of rigorous training, then testing, shadowing missions, before finally taking the final test, which would place you and the real journey would begin from there.

I had been a fully trained paladin for about a year when I began the trials, my motivation high and thirst for knowledge upon my tongue. The trials consisted of three very different phases. The first phase was a physical examination, testing your durability with and without armor, stamina, technique, and overall skill against multiple terrain and weather. I had no issue passing the physical portion, having dealt with poor terrain and weather conditions in Everlook my whole life, and moved on quickly to the writing portion, identifying political jargon and decrypting codes sent via carrier birds. This too seemed easy, and I found myself hoping this meant I would be placed with a good unit, one that would be going to assault the scourge as soon as possible. All assignments in the Argent Dawn are permanent, there is not changing, swapping, trading… They very much believe that you are placed where you are meant to be, and thus your station is your permanent home unless you left the Argent Dawn altogether.

Rantok and I had locked eyes during the T.S.A portion of the assessment, the final portion where it required you to analyze patients for disease, broken bones, et cetera, and what kind of healing they would need should you actually heal them, and report back to the priest in charge of the infirmary. He was bright eyed, his green skin glistening with fresh sweat from the physical assessment. I couldn't help but notice his defined musculature, though common in most orcs, and I had to shun the urge to try to touch him, strangely enough. It was after I realized I had been staring, my face flushed and I went to turn away, that I caught him wink at me, and throw a mischievous grin in my direction. I turned, baffled but he was already pouring over notes given to him, and I knew I'd have a chance to talk to him later.

T.S.A was easy for me in terms of intellect and variable protocol, and the first portion went by smoothly. The second part required me to actually enter the infirmary and access some of the patients there. Holy was not my specialty, I was a protection paladin, but it didn't hurt to understand what was going on, or get basic training in case of an emergency. As such, I stood outside the infirmary door, somewhat nervous, and awaited my turn for the final test.

A sudden stench hit my nose and it was almost as if I had reached a wall of rot. The smell itself was so potent I had to force back my gag reflex.

"Argent Dawn Hexknot," Said a young looking Draenei priest, reading off of a clipboard. "This is the assessment for screening disease, plague-rot and undeath identification. Do you confirm?" Despite knowing what I would see, I still wasn't sure I could properly steel myself when confronted with a real live case of plague rot. As if the stench alone wasn't bad enough, I couldn't imagine that seeing it would yield better results. But still, it was a part of our duties to be able to identify the injury in case healing needed to be rendered, and thus I nodded.

"I confirm." I told her, awaiting further instruction. She eyed me for a moment, likely wondering why I was even here to begin with, before nodding and opening the tent flap to allow entrance.

The infirmary was not large by any means, but it was crowded for its size. Beds were pushed close together to make room, though at a quick glance I noticed a few beds were pushed well away from others. The patience seemed to have varying degrees of injuries, illness and the like. Each and every one of them looked as if they were supposed to be in this room. The priest led me to the first patient, a human male, and paused, checking off something on her paperwork.

"Please identify as we go down the line what type of illness or injury these patients have." She stated, no inflection in her voice. "You need not worry about inciting panic, all the patients in this tent have been heavily sedated for this exercise. After identifying the disease, you will give a brief description of how, if at all, to heal, cure or treat the disease." She paused again, staring at me.

"You may begin when ready." I looked at the man on the table and quickly did a basic assessment. On the battlefield, it was well known that such thorough examinations would not be possible. Between attacking, defending, and healing, all parties would be occupied, and despite having dedicated healers, sometimes priorities would change based off of the battle itself. That being said, being able to identify an emergency from a distance was a skill most coveted amongst the corpsman of the Argent Dawn. I myself was a preferred defender, a protection paladin, however healing was just as good a profession, and was encouraged to be proficient in.

I took a glove from the box on the side table and prodded the flesh on his arm, checking his pulse and feeling for any abnormalities.

"Minor flu." I responded, stripping the glove from my hand. "Skin is chilled, indicating overexposure. Basic herbal remedies will suffice." I watched the Draenei woman nod in approval, obviously impressed at the diagnosis, and beckon me over to the next table, where a human female, frail looking at best, lain asleep.

Each patient's ailment was different in terms of severity. Despite each of them being under some type of potion that essentially knocked them out, most had obvious signs of whatever ailment or injury possessed them. I moved from table to table, making whatever diagnosis I thought would be good, from herbal remedies to limb removal, or even extensive holy healing, especially prevalent with the scourge outbreak. At each table, the Draenei waited patiently for me to make my assessment before allowing me to continue, choosing not to comment on my judgment, but taking plenty of unseen notes on her clipboard.

After what seemed to be an hour, we reached the final patient in the line, and instantly I knew that the source of the pungent smell from before was emanating from him. He was a human male, his clothing stripped off, a thin sheet covering the necessities. There was a sheen from the layer of sweat on his skin, and his veins appeared to be blackened on his left side, where I spotted a garish looking laceration.

"This will be your final assessment, Argent Dawn Hexknot." The priest said, her voice sounding uncomfortable. "I would suggest you make your assessment quickly. This patient is going to be moved shortly."

"Plague rot." I said instantly. Immediately donning gloves and spraying them down. "That's where the smell was coming from. It looks advanced. Non-curable. Based off the strength of the smell, the look of his veins… his breathing…" I hated this part of this profession. I didn't like death, I supposed no one really did. But this man's fate had been sealed by whatever catalyst had introduced the rot into his system. "I'd say he doesn't have much time left."

I touched his skin, expecting it to be hot to the touch, but recoiled in shock. It was as cold as ice, striking to touch. I had never seen someone actually inflicted with frost fever, but we'd been briefed about if from our training commander. There were three types of diseases associated with the Lich King's scourge. Plague rot, Shadow disease, and Frost fever. All three were lethal and uncurable. Plague rot was the most commonly seen, and smelled, and often was the precursor to undeath. Shadow disease was usually not diagnosable until the final stages, but was also lethal. Frost fever… instantaneous, lethal, and worse yet, could be spread quickly, though it hadn't been determined how, as it wasn't contagious.

"He's also infected with frost fever." I said slowly, taking a step back and removing the glove I'd touched the man's skin with and immediately burning it. "It's incurable. It can be cleansed temporarily, but, as with plague rot… it will lead to death." I looked at the unconscious man sadly. He likely had no idea he was even dying, though I had a feeling he'd been sedated since he was brought in. The Draenei priest gestured for me to follow her out and I did so, glad to be away from the sickness and death. I felt mentally drained, and for a brief moment wondered if this was how I was going to feel all the time, before reminding myself that the light would triumph over death.

"That concludes your assessment Argent Dawn Hexknot." She said, writing on her clipboard deliberately. "Please, have a seat in the wardroom to await your assignment. Best of luck, and may the light illuminate your way." I nodded, making my way to one of the only buildings in the vicinity, stepping into the wardroom, which was oddly empty, and taking a seat in a squat chair in the back corner of the room. My thoughts wandered in the silence, my mind's eye still trained on the man with the scourge taint.

It was scary to think about the possibilities involved with combatting the scourge. It seemed not too long ago that most people's concerns were with the Burning Legion in Outland, and the betrayer, but now… Now the Lich King was the forefront and it seemed that he was the most powerful enemy we'd ever have to face. His mere name wrought fear and sent trembles through the armies of the Horde and Alliance alike, and sent neutral parties such as the Argent Dawn to search for ways to stop the man.

So enraptured in my thoughts was I that I didn't hear the door open, or see my company step into the room.

"Don't stress it too much doll-face." A rough, deep voice stated. Startled, I turned my head to see the Orc from before, his blue eyes trained on my face, his grin one of mirth. He plopped down next to me, despite having plenty of seats around the room. I sat, back ram rod straight, a stray curl tickling my face as I mentally chastised myself for being unaware of my surroundings. The orc chuckled, obviously knowing that he'd caught me off guard and found amusement as such. "You know how the saying goes. 'The Argent Dawn places you where you are meant to go.'" I nodded timidly, looking up at him from my chair. His face was broad, his tusks pierced with steel rings, a shade of a beard forming under his skin. His hair was brown and shaven, save for a strip running from the front of his brow to the base of his neck, that stood straight up. His armor was bronze and battle-worn, obviously proven, as the scratches were deep but worn with age.

"I'm Rantok, by the way." The Orc said, extending a large hand into my field of vision. "Rantok Blackwing. I couldn't help but notice you're the only Goblin here." I grimaced, quickly shaking his hand and releasing it just as quickly.

"I guess that makes me a novelty, then?" I asked, trying to keep my voice sounding amused. It was difficult at best being a Goblin in the Argent Dawn. My people were naturally neutral, so the continuity of neutrality suited me just fine. Working in close arms with both the Horde and Alliance was also common, as trade was important no matter what the currency. Though the Argent Dawn was mostly made up of races from the Alliance, there were plenty of Orcs, trolls and blood elves around to represent the Horde. "No wonder I was receiving strange looks. What, has no one seen a Goblin woman before?" Rantok let out a hearty laugh, his eyes crinkling in amusement.

"I like your spirt my little green friend." He said, looking at me intently. "Tell me, what is your name? I think I'd like to get to know you better." I hesitated. There was nothing unusual about wanting to introduce one's self to another, but we had not received our assignments yet. This was perhaps the final time I would ever see this orc, and he sounded as if he wanted to get to know me in a manner that wouldn't be possible, assuming we were assigned to separate divisions.

Unable to stop myself, I responded, "Why get aquainted if we're going ot be placed in possibly different divisions?" I asked slowly. To my surprise, he shrugged off my question.

"Argent Dawn overlaps all the time." He replied. He wasn't wrong. Different divisions usually had a job in a particular area, whether it be Kalimdor or the Eastern Plaguelands, but all divisions had to report back to the Base of operation when the job was complete, so it was entirely possible that they'd meet again. I was about to retort, but the door opened, and a figure stepped inside, alone, and instantly Rantok and I stood up at attention, able to recognize the man immediately.

Commander Tirion Fordring had arrived.

…

Very long chapter! Whooo I just had to cut this one off a little early, or it would have gone on forever. Don't worry, I'm already about to start the next chapter, so you shouldn't have to wait too long. I hope you are enjoying it so far, and please, feel free to review and follow! Thank you! :D


	8. Obtainable

Obtainable

"At ease soldiers." Came the smooth, but commanding voice of Tirion Fordring. He was a tall man, at least three feet taller than I, with hair as white as snow and eyes that had seen many battles. His armor was clean and pristine, but it was well known that he was as battle-worn as the rest, his command of the Holy light unmatched. He placed his helm on the table, pulling free two envelopes from beneath his arm. "I have your assignments. It's one that I have not briefed in quite some time."

My curiosity peaked instantly, and a strange feeling settled in the pit of my stomach. Commander Fordring slid the folders forward on the table, one in front of both myself and Rantok. My heart sped up, and I could hear the beating in my ears as I stared at the beige folder. I reached out and picked up my folder, hands trembling, and opened the folder. Next to me, Rantok did the same. I gasped, reading through the contents.

Argent Dawn Hexknot;

Congratulations. You have been assigned to the elite division of the Crusade.

For you, this means that there will be many missions that will be life threatening,

But the rewards will outweigh the dangers. Your assigned leader will be CDR.

T. Fordring, and you will report to him immediately to assume your duties.

May the Light Be with you.

"S-sir! Are you sure?" I asked, almost unable to contain my excitement. This was big. The Crusade Division was indeed elite. Well known for taking on jobs that not just anyone could do, they were well known for taking down scourge forces across different continents. They were a smaller group, but what they didn't have in numbers, they made up for in skill. To have been chosen to be a part of this division… It was a great honor.

"I am very sure." He responded, a twinkle in his eye as he surveyed us. "Welcome to the Crusade division, Crusader Hexknot and Crusader Blackwing. Your journey truly begins here. I look forward to working with the both of you." And with a curt nod and a smile, he turned heel and exited the room. I could hardly contain my excitement, and I knew that I would truly be happy with my new assignment. I turned my head to see Rantok also looking pleased at his assignment. I stood, and held out my hand to my new comrade.

"Crysanthemum Hexknot. Paladin." He shook my hand, grinning widely, and well, the rest was history. I found out that he was a warrior from a long line of warriors, his ancestors each having died in battle, honored and dignified. He had lost a sibling, a brother, to the plague that was the scourge. He carried that burden on his shoulders at all times, as if it were a chip. However, he wore it with pride, a reminder of what he was fighting for, in a sense.

Interracial relationships were pretty uncommon across Azeroth, but not unheard of. Especially on the Horde side. It was even less likely to find two races of separate factions entering into intimate relations. Though, in the Argent Dawn, I noted that race was intrinsically ignored, and many soldiers got on with whomever, despite faction or race. As far as the Argent Dawn was concerned, we were all neutral, and we were all to work together as such, ignoring the disparities between races. It was harder for some more than others, mostly the Humans and the orcs, though I also noticed that Blood elves and Night elves had issues coming to agreements also.

Rantok did not attempt to hide his interest in me, and I did not deny my curiosity of him. Though we were busy traveling and doing menial tasks in preparation for deployments, on rare off days or stops we would take off and enjoy whatever time we could together.

One year passed after receiving our assignments before we were told to take on an assignment that at first glance, seemed pretty standard. Andorhal was a small town in the middle of the Plaguelands, occupied currently by Forsaken, undead who were once human, freed from the mind control of the scourge. It would seem that peace was not meant to be in this area, as before the Scourge had sought out the town, prior, the Horde and The Alliance had the town split, fighting for control of the area as a headway against scourge forces. Where the Forsaken saw it as the home they once lived in, the Humans saw it as their home that they'd been driven out of. It was an uncomfortable situation to say the least. Our division was preparing for a very extended stay in Andorhal, one could almost say indefinitely. No one was quite sure how long scourge forces would be trying to occupy the area, and our main job was to keep the plague from spreading to the Humans that occupied half of Andorhal.

Our ship was slotted to arrive at dawn the next morning, and once docked, it was a three day walk to the town. None of our party had any issues with walking, we would take camp for five hours each night and arrive in Andorhal to assist with removing the scourge threat.

"All ready to dock, lads?" A gruff voice called out. It belonged to Marik, a Worgen, and a priest to boot, as he called below decks. "I know you two love birds are down there. Ready up. Shore is within view."

I spun around in shock. We were early.

"Already?" I said, picking up a few more boxes. "I thought we weren't supposed to be there till dawn tomorrow?"

"Good timing, I'd say." Rantok replied, tossing a weathered looking scroll at me, and slinging a large, heavy looking burlap sack over his shoulder. "The disappearances have doubled in the Plaguelands over the past four months. You could say we're really needed here." I nodded. It wasn't as if I disagreed. I didn't. Something just felt wrong. Off. My gut instincts were putting me on high alert.

I must have looked sick, or at least as worried as I felt, because Rantok looked at me in concern.

"Hey, it will be alright, Crys." He said, picking me up as if I weighed nothing and setting me on his broad shoulders. "We're the Argent Dawn. We will protect Andorhal." I smiled weakly at him, and we slowly climbed the steps to the top deck, where many of our division was already working to prepare for landing. We dropped off our cargo and headed to the front of the ship, where Marik, in his wolf form, was standing, tying down some of the gear that had been carried to the front. His robe was angled strangely, but he didn't seem to notice.

"When did they put out word that we were going to be early?" Rantok asked, setting me on the ground. Marik turned around, wrapping up the remainder of his rope into a bundle.

"Not too long ago." He replied, his accent strange to hear through the growl. "Said the winds were favorable. I take it you two were hoping for another quiet night?"

"Just wasn't expecting to be here so soon." I interjected. "The sights we see aren't going to be pretty."

"Aye, you're not wrong there lass." Marik replied, a twinkle in his yellowed eyes. "I was reading through some of the reports. The plague is spreading fast here. Even the wildlife has started to suffer." I cringed at this. When the plants and animals began to suffer from the scourge taint also, that meant only one thing. There was a huge scourge infestation.

"Are all the healers ready?" Rantok asked. Marik shrugged.

"Probably not." He replied. "I don't know if there is a way to really prepare yourself for this kind of thing." I could agree with that. It wasn't every day you had to walk into an area literally owned by the scourge. It was like asking for something bad to happen. The feeling in the pit of my stomach had returned full force, and I forced it down.

It was still dark when we made port, the stars were invisible however, the dark clouds making the night more sinister than it seemed while we had sailed. We began tying down the ship when a couple Forsaken Deathguards came forward, silent as the night.

"The Dark Lady has requested that you be very wary of the paths to the east as you near Andorhal." One of the Guards said. "The scourge taint is prevalent there, and the disappearances are common in that area. The Caravan path has been marked on your map. It would be in your best interest to follow it carefully. May the Dark Lady watch over you." Our division leader, Commander Silvereye, took the map, nodded his thanks, and we packed our supplies up quickly, setting the oxen to travel.

Used to the snowy area of Everlook, and the tribal areas of the Horde, the Plaguelands were quite unlike anything I'd ever seen before. It was obvious that death owned the land, and disease riddled the living. The trees were sick with rot, falling over or growing organic looking pustules that looked fit to burst. The rivers and creeks looked sick, and if there had ever been fish before, they were long since dead. Buildings were crumbled and the stench in the air was constant no matter how far we travelled. A shudder passed through my body, and I felt sick to my stomach. A hand came down on my shoulder and I looked up to see Rantok looking at me with concern. I shook my head, trying my best to give him a smile, which likely turned out more like a grimace.

"I'm fine, really." I said. "It's just… worse than I thought. The scourge really is prevalent here." Rantok nodded in understanding,

"It will take some getting used to, but we're here to help fix this land." Rantok said. "It's our duty. We will get this land fixed." I nodded, though the feeling of dread in my stomach did not abate. Something was wrong. Not just the scourge and the plague but… something more sinister. I could almost feel something staring at me, watching. Waiting. Its breath down my neck.

The first day we covered a good amount of ground, making it more than a third of the way to Andorhal. Commander Silvereye decided to extend our rest time to 9 hours, and post watches on the outskirts to prevent any uninvited visitors.

I was not on the list for watch that night, and fell into sleep quickly, but the unsettled feeling did not dissipate. My dream was dark, but I could hear whispers. They were not gently whispers, like the light which promised clarity and hope. No, these whispers… They were secretive. Cunning. I could sense it. But they were urgent too. As if desperately trying to send me a message. I listened. I tried to feel for what they were asking.

The voices were telling me to seek the light. To touch it. To feel it. Odd, considering the light was always there when I needed it. However now, the darkness was consuming. I couldn't see any light, and despite trying to reorient myself, trying to call upon it, the darkness was unending. Something felt very wrong, and I couldn't figure out why. I wandered around in the darkness, trying to orient myself but time and space just seemed to span forever.

Before I could begin to panic however, the horn for wake-up sounded, and I was pulled abruptly from the dream, awakening next to my companions. Rantok was already awake, and plopped down next to me, sliding a water canteen and biscuit to me. I scarfed down the food out of nervousness and drank the water slowly, relishing the clean water while I could.

"You were restless last night." It wasn't a question. He'd noticed that I was tossing and turning. If he wished for an explanation, it didn't show on his face. I hesitated. I wasn't sure what to tell him. It was a strange dream. "Was it a nightmare?"

"Not really a nightmare." I replied slowly, trying to sound aloof. "Just a strange dream. Nothing to get worked up about. I'm sure I'll be less obnoxious tomorrow night. Rantok chucked and continued eating his biscuit. Marik came over from the wagon and sat down, sighing and crossing his arms. It looked rather comical, and I stifled a laugh.

"Oh boy. What is it Marik?" Rantok asked, amusment on his face. Marik massaged his temple and sighed again.

"Commander Silvereye is being absolutely insufferable." The Worgen grumbled, his snout turned up in indignation. "I packed my tea, and went to pull a bag out for this morning and what does he say? 'This isn't social hour soldier, leave it be'." He imitated the Commander in a squeaky voice and I let out a chuckle, followed by Rantok's hearty laugh. "So what, now I can't drink my own tea? I could die in an hour, and I'll never have known how my last tea would have tasted." For a moment, Rantok and I just stood there, before bursting into a fit of laughter. A much needed fit of laughter, at the expense of Marik.

"Oh Mar." Rantok said between guffaws. "Your upsets make my mornings a helluva lot more interesting." Marik rolled his eyes, snuffing at the Laughing Orc.

"No sensitivity, barbarian." This only made Rantok laugh harder.

Everyone finished packing up the Caravan, and travel again resumed, venturing towards Andorhal. As we came closer to the town, the landscape and the creatures looked worse and worse. This was a land in need of healing. Dead animal corpses, some clearly plague rotted, were strewn across the forest floor, and soon, we began to actually see the skeletal remains of scourge troops that had been cut down. We were getting close.

"You can almost smell the plague's stench." Marik said, sniffing at the air. I chose not to comment. Despite not having as good a sense of smell, I could tell just based off of the air and the feeling in my gut that we were close. We needed to be extra cautious. Any bites, scratches or infected wounds, meant certain death. And if your body wasn't properly disposed of by burning… undeath.

The true enemy was in the undeath via the scourge. We had been briefed on the risks, we knew the consequences and we knew the risk. If any of us died, it was our comrades duty to burn the body to avoid the scourge using it to raise it as a mindless slave. No objections had been made, and thus we marched on, not knowing how quickly we would be truly tested.

…

Welp, here's yet another chapter. Things are slowly starting to fall into place. We are seeing Crysanthemum's time as a paladin draw to a close, which I must admit, is really rough. I love her as a DK, but I enjoyed portraying her as a warrior of the light. But alas, all good things must come to an end. ;P


	9. Obliteration

Obliteration

Night came faster than I had been expecting, and our Commander again ordered our stop. This time, my name was on the list to take the second watch. It was pretty common for me to be placed on this particular watch during trips like these, as I was able to keep myself preoccupied and awake during the odd hours of the late night into the early morning with ease.

Two watches were to be posted this night, due to the proximity to the Scourge army. One at the front, and one in the back, rotating in a circle twice per hour to be sure no surprise visitors made their way into the camp. My companion watchstander, Habane, was a troll warrior from the darkspear. He was pretty quiet, and would be very vigilant while on watch.

I would only get two hours of sleep prior to watch, so I made up my sleeping bag quickly, willing myself to get the maximum amount of sleep possible. I heard Rantok slither into his bag next to me, and sigh.

"I am surprisingly tired." He said, yawning largely. "I'll sleep like a rock tonight. Night all." And in such a short time it was almost shocking, he was snoring away, asleep. I looked on in complete disbelief. Marik chuckled at my expression, laying down on his blanket.

"You chose that you know." He reminded me. I rolled my eyes and turned over, my cheeks darkening from Marik's comment. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to remember how to find the peace to sleep. I heard Marik to continue chuckle and I grumbled, loudly enough for him to hear, "You can't say anything about choosing until you finally ask Lisabeth to marry you." Lisabeth was a girl that he'd been in love with for years. They were infected with the Worgen curse at around the same time, and she was not so subtle in her attempts at drawing him out of his shell, but Marik was shy. But as a Druid, she was so in tune with herself that she felt as if he should just admit his feelings.

"Low blow Crysanthemum." I heard the rough growl reply. It was my turn to chuckle, and I let my mind slip into a small oblivion.

Too soon it seemed one of the off going watches tapped on me letting me know it was my turn. Groggily, I sat up and began to pull on my armor, mostly plate but some softer chain mail, specifically over my stomach and arms, to allow quick movements. The gear was my favorite, a glistening pristine cream color with gold embellishments, and purple gems that shone with an energy all their own. A Draenei friend of mine had procured the armor from a blacksmith who crafter armor for Shattrath. I couldn't have asked for better craftsmanship, and indeed the armor had saved me many times.

I walked out to my post at the front of the camp and yawned, staring at the stars. I felt rested at first, my body spry and young still, being eighteen years of age. The forsaken used very little artificial light, so you could actually see the constellations, the universe falling into place in the sky. No smog either, so the sky's true blackish-blue color just stood out. It was so peaceful, so soothing, and I felt myself slowly drifting into a lull of sleep, despite having felt refreshed previously. I struggled against the sudden wave of lethargy that overcame me, but to no avail. It was like I had been slipped a sleeping potion. The effect was overwhelming.

The darkness was there again. I spun around, looking for some semblance of bearings, but it was pitch dark, and the silence was almost deafening. I wandered again, wondering if I was lost in this darkness, pleading with the light to show the way. As the plea left my lips, I heard a whisper.

So quiet was it that at first I thought I was hearing things. I listened intently, my ear twitching as I tried to hear the whisper's words. It was the same as before. It whispered, urgently, desperately, to seek out the Light. To touch it. To taste it. The urgency was so high that I physically felt as if I were being pushed. I felt disoriented. I had already sought out the light, why was I being asked to seek it out now? I felt a pull and followed it blindly, my feet stumbling over themselves as I made my way through the darkness. As I walked, I pondered this whisper. It had no real voice, more like a tone, and it was a tone that demanded attention. I looked up suddenly, my eyes trained on something in the distance. Bright, ethereal. The light! I had found it!

My steps quickened and I felt a pounding in my chest. It was such a beautiful light, bright and luscious, beckoning me to hold it in my embrace, I began to run, closer and closer and closer to the light and then-

Pain.

Agonizing pain. I was swallowed by it, consumed by it. Everything hurt. Pain, hurt, It clouded my vision, my mind, I couldn't think, I couldn't see.

I forced myself to focus, to look down to the source of the pain, my abdomen. It was then that the darkness melted away and all was revealed to me.

This had to be a nightmare. It had to be. A sword, long and garish, had pierced through my armor and into my flesh, through my armor again and out the other side. Holding the cursed blade was a skeleton like creature, its glowing eyes trained sinisterly on my face. As bright as the light that had been calling me. I choked, unable to believe my eyes, a haziness slowly coming over me.

"No!" I gasped out, the taste of blood on my tongue. The taste of something unholy, rancid, too came over me and I grasped at the skeletal creature in a panic. In response, it twisted the sword hard, and I felt my legs collapse beneath me as an infestation of disease was released into my body. I was suddenly so cold. Frozen. My eyes widened when I realized that I had contracted frost fever from this scourge pawn.

I sucked in a deep breath and kicked the warrior back, channeling as much holy energy as I could to hopefully kill the creature, and watched in relief as its bony structure crumpled into an ashen heap several feet from me. But the relief was only temporary. Again I was on my knees, this time wretching, emptying my stomach of whatever contents it had left, blood pooling around me like a lake.

I attempted to call upon holy energy again, this time to staunch the free flow of blood, and possibly buy myself some time before I would succumb to my wounds, but the wound poured like a river and holy energy seemed to be just out of my grasp. No matter how much I called upon the light to heal me, it was silent. I prayed to the light that I wasn't too far gone. I couldn't die here. I had to survive long enough to warn the camp...

I heard a crunch in the distance, and I felt my ear twitch. My vision was already starting to become hazy, but I tried my best to focus on where the sound had come from. In the not so far distance, I could see shapes emerging from the same direction the scourge skeleton had originated. At first my vision seemed to just see blobs of black and shade, but after a moment, the shapes began to take a true form, and my heart sped up, causing a gush of blood to rush through my fingers as I held the laceration shut. The scourge had sent a scout ahead, and I had run right into it. But now, the full army was coming straight for my camp. All assortmants of the Lich Kings army, mostly ghouls and skeletal creatures with no flesh, but some abominations, were hulking and shuffling forward in a mass exodus, headed straight for the unknowing Argent Dawn.

"Crysanthemum!" I heard my name being called, though it felt as though there was cloth in my ears for how muffled the sound was. I felt dizzy, my vision was seeing double, and I couldn't help but lay down on my side, clutching my stomach weakly and my breathing becoming more and more shallow. I felt so tired, and so sick. I empytied my stomach again, this time, it was all blood.

"Oh, Spirits, Crys!" I knew the voice now. It was Rantok! But... how did he know I was out here? All of the camp should have been asleep. I opened my eyes blearily, but found my vision had not improved since closing them in the first place, and heard heavy footfal and a skid through the gravel stopping near me. Behind them, another set of footsteps followed, quieter, almost stealthily.

I felt a hand, large, gently lift my upper back so that I was elevated. I seethed as the wound seemed to surge with violent pain and the chill of ice. I tried opening my eyes once again, and found them trained, blurrily, on Rantok's concerned face. His eyes were not on mine however, but on the wound that my hand lazily covered.

"She fried skeleton-man over there with a blast of holy light." Another voice, Marik, I thought, said from a distance. "It must have been some attack. It's basically ash now..." His voice trailed off and I heard a snuffling sound, accompanied shortly after by moving footsteps and an audible gasp.

"Oh no..." He said, his voice so soft it was a wonder I even heard it. I knew that Marik was smart enough to know what this meant. He had already identified that I was infected. I needed to tell them to warn the camp, I needed them to let me die, burn my body, and kill the scourge. My brain was hazy and I struggled to find my lips.

"Take..." I licked my lips, dry and so cold. My voice was soft and raspy. I saw Rantok train his eyes on my face and lean down to hear me.

"Crys, just hang on, we're going to get you back to camp." Rantok said, already moving his hands to grab beneath my legs. "We'll get you healed up, we'll get you help-"

"Rantok..." Marik said softly, placing his clawed hand upon Rantok's shoulder. "It's no use..." But Rantok slapped his hand away. I forced myself to stay awake despite the murkiness invading my vision.

"Take...it out... Rantok." I said, my voice hardly projected, but I knew he heard me based on his expression alone. He was about to protest but I opened my mouth and he fell silent. "It's too late... to stop... the disease." I coughed, feeling like I was drowning. "If you... pull it... out... I'll die faster." Rantok glanced at the blade that was still lodged in my midrift, but declined to acknowledge what I said other than this gesture.

"What are you on about!?" Rantok shouted, his rage showing on his face. His voice was rough. "We'll get you to the Healers, they can cleanse you, Marik can-"

"This isn't cleansable." Marik stated matter of factly. His ears twitched and he looked back, his eyes widening. "But that's rather besides the point now, Rantok. Look." He pointed towards the slow moving mass that was the scourge, and I heard Rantok sigh in slight panic.

"Marik, we can't just leave her here like this." He said quietly, defeated almost. I couldn't focus. The cold seemed to be slowly spreading throughout my limbs.

"Rantok." I managed to croak out. His eyes were again on my face, and I forced my eyes to focus on him. His features were grim, and in that moment I realized how close I was to death. This would be the last time I saw him. The panic hitched my breath and sent my head reeling. I could feel my bones, practically rattling with the cold, hard and course against my frozen muscles.

"No Crys." He replied firmly, his hands clutching me tightly, though I could hardly feel them at all. "This wasn't supposed to happen. Not like this. Not to you."

"Rantok, this is serious." Marik interjected, panic sounding in his voice. I knew I needed to intervene, prevent more casualties somehow.

"They're... headed... for the... camp." I forced out, coughing up blood. My vision became dark, almost as if night had fallen. I heard the deathly flapping of what could only be known as Valk'yr wings as the scourge army drew ever closer. The disease was still spreading, and it consumed my every thought like fire.

"You... leave... me... warn... others..." I felt drained. My lips and tongue were dry, my head frozen and my limbs like ice. The wound did not hurt any longer, merely radiated a sickening cold that made my very bones tremble. I heard muttering from Rantok, and I mustered what little strength I had left to lift my hand. The movement was excruciating, it felt like my muscles were made of glass and my bones of ice, as they cracked to move to my will. My hand rested on his face, but beneath it I felt nothing. All sensation was numb, and I knew the comfort was more for his sake than mine. I was already dead. The dead did not seek comfort.

"Rantok... please..." I pleaded weakly. I closed my eyes, and felt a tear trail down my face slowly. "I need you..." I felt his eyes upon me, but my will was weak. I felt hollow, and for a moment, the darkness seemed to consume me. But my body was shaken and I came alive for a moment more, though it was with disorientation that it came to me.

"Crys..."

"Dest...roy...my...bo...dy...plea...se..." I gasped, the cold sending a shock of pain through my body. "I... don't...wa..nt...them..."

The darkness enveloped my mind, and for a moment, there was peace. It was completely dark, death. Nothing there but silence and a deep profound sense of quiet. So much so, that I was soothed, and my worries, my pain, it was all gone. I felt as if I was floating on a dark lake, my limbs free and no longer encumbered. Free from sorrow, free from worries, regrets. Just blissful silence. It was so like a dreamless sleep, and Just laying in the endless space felt so natural that I hardly wondered why I was there at all. Beneath my closed eyelids I saw a quick flash of light. Thinking it odd, I opened them, curious as to what could possibly be bright enough to interrupt my blissful darkness.

I sat up, confused. Where had the light gone? Where... Where was I again? It all seemed so hazy. I couldn't remember. Why was I here? Didn't I have something...

My thoughts continued to trail when I felt a warmth on my back. I slowly shifted my body to face the source of the soothing warmth and found the bright light that had flashed before. The light bathed my body in warmth and I closed my eyes again, relishing in the touch of pure energy that soothed my spirit further. I felt drawn to it, like it was calling me to answer it. I began to walk towards it, my gait slow and patient. It was not an urgent call, moreso, one that was welcoming, beckoning me to come forward and join it.

As I drew closer the light grew larger and more prominent, clearer, until suddenly I was standing before a large ornate golden gate. It reminded me of a picture I'd seen in a story book, one of the Titans. Large, huge columns and fine finishes. Details like engravings and twisting golden pikes decorated the top of the gate, which looked as if no mere mortal could scale it. White light streamed from it's bars, almost blinding, and yet soft and comforting all at once. I couldn't help but stare at it for quite some time, admiring the craftmanship.

"Crysanthemum." It was a soft voice that called the name, and it echoed throughout the light and the darkness, reverberating as if it were a colliseum. I pivoted slightly to look to my left. I saw a young goblin woman standing there. Her face seemed familiar, similar to someone I knew once. Her eyes were a lavendar color and slightly narrow, her yellow-green skin fleckled with dark green freckles across her cheeks and forhead. Her ears were short, but wide and clear of piercings, something many of our kind were fond of. Her hair was a beautiful indigo, and was straight and not held up by any bindings. She looked eternally young, but I felt as though I had known her as someone... older.

"Yes?" I responded naturally, my curiousity not quite biting at me, but still underlayed beneath the calm. I supposed my face showed my innate curiousity, as the goblin stranger smiled sadly and shook her head.

"Oh I know. But, I am disappointed that you don't recognize me." My brow furrowed as I focused on her face a little harder. The lines around her eyes. The high cheekbones. Her sleek hair and how it fell on her head. I scratched my head, and discovered that my hair was no longer tied up by the band I'd made when I was young. I picked up a stray lock of the purple hair and stared, intruiged.

I felt the goblin's eyes on me, and I looked back to her chagrined. However, she looked perfectly patient, even so amused, as she eyed me up. I stared for a moment, but could not for the life of me remember where I'd seen her before.

"Oh come now." She said, laughing. "Don't tell me you already forgot your old Grams?" I gasped, a smile breaking out onto my face.

"Grams?" I asked. "But... You're so young!" She giggled, a lovely sound, and I felt her happiness seep into my being.

"We are all young here." She replied, indicating the gate behind her. "Well... in a sense anyway. No thing such as age really exists behind this gate." I stared up at it. It was a wonderful marvel. My grandmother had died when I was young, around seven or eight years. But she always laughed and brought her tinker work with her. She was a talented engineer, and passed on much of her talent to her son, our father. While I'd known her, her hair had been gray and the wrinkles had owned her face. Now, she was herself, young, beautiful, and free.

"Where exactly does the gate go?" I asked her, unable to curb my curiosity. Her eyes looked to the gate and she placed a hand on it gently, running it along the metal frame.

"Beyond." She replied, staring past the gate. "Heaven, I suppose some would call it. All good souls go here after dying. The light does not forsake those who have not been wicked during their lives." She paused, scrutinizing me for a moment.

"I was sent here to retrieve your soul." She continued, pausing again, looking up as if hearing something from above. "Oh."

"So I am dead..." I said, looking down at my feet. If this was death well... it wasn't so bad. I didn't feet sad, nor did I have any regrets that bogged me down. I felt... free. I looked up at her, smiling, ready to follow her into the gate, when I registered the look on her face. It was no longer a welcoming smile on her face, instead, an expression of trepidation.

"What is it Grams?" I asked, placing a hand gently on her shoulder. She looked at me sadly.

"I'm afraid theres... been a snag." She said, her voice small.

"A snag?" I repeated, not understanding. Suddenly, as if she had triggered it, I felt something. Not peace. A small aura. Dread. It emanated from the core of my heart and slowly, like dripping water, began to stream to the rest of my body. I felt cold.

"Yes." She said unhappily. "You see... It was known you were going to die." She explained to me. I looked to her in surprise. I was going to die no matter what? I wasn't sure if I felt offended, or what exactly I felt. I thought to myself and supposed it was mostly shock. I gasped as a feeling of intense cold radiated from deep within me, and I crumpled to my knees, gasping.

"However," She continued, her eyes filled with pity. "Your body... it was supposed to have been burned." My eyes shot up to hers involuntarily. Somehow, hazily, the past was slowly coming back to me. The dream, the sleepwalking. The skeletal creature that had thrust is sword into my stomach. Rantok crying out my name. Then silence. My grams turned to an empty space beside the gate where a warped field of the space appeared. A vision began to show, and slowly, I began to see myself, lying in Rantok's arms on the ground. My body was limp.

There was no sound, but I was able to see what happened in the moments following my death. Marik reached over and yanked on Rantok's pauldrons, pointing and shouting, indicating the scourge army that was drawing ever closer to the camp. Rantok's eyes were wild with panic, and I watched him look back and forth between my body, and the army. But Marik heaved him up again, pointing to my body and saying something, I could not have lip read with his mouth the way it was, and shoving him back towards the camp. Rantok reluctantly set my body down, and with a last glance, he and Marik began to sprint away, leaving my broken body upon the ground.

I continued to watch as, only moments later, a ghoul happened across my corpse, its sickening visage twisting as it pointed frantically to my body. Another skeletal creature, different from the one who'd killed me, hovered over my body delicately. It wore ceremonial robes similar to a mage, and it had a frosty aura around it that reminded me of snow. The creature casted a small spell and I watched as my body began to elevate above the ground. The skeleton-mage barked out an order to the ghoul, then, with my body in tow, disappeared with a flash of warped time.

The cold that had infected my body had reached the tips of my fingers and I gasped again, looking to my grams for any sort of relief.

"No..." I called mournfully. I knew what this meant. Years of conditioning and training had prepared me for this moment. When my comrades didn't destroy my body... They damned me instead.

"I'm afraid... The Lich King is calling your soul to return to your body now." Grams said, kneeling down and embracing me. I could not feel her touching me however, and no sense of relief could quench the pain from the ice that penetrated my being. Her eyes scanned mine sadly, as if trying to will me to resist the call of the Lich King. But my mind was already beginning to fade.

"There is nothing we can do to stop him from claiming your soul." She said, her voice slowly fading and becoming more distant. "However, you can help yourself."

I tried to focus on her face, but I could hear someone calling my name. Telling me to greet them. I was compelled, driven by this voice. I felt my will slipping by the moment, and in a desperate attempt to get any sort of assisstance in resisting, I forced myself to ask.

"How!? What can I do?"

"Fight his control child." Her voice echoed, and I watched as the gate's light dimmed, and again, darkness began to consume me. "Don't let him own your soul..."

...

Well, this chapter has been quite the doozy. I wasn't sure I'd ever get through it! I was reading a particularly well written fan fiction, and it inspired me to work on my chapter length, which I admit, is notorious for being short. Anyhow, Enjoy this chapter, and hopefully, we'll see more to come soon!


	10. Extrication

Extrication

The paper stared at me from the floor, as if it were living, and taunted me with its gently curved characters. It couldn't be possible. It had to be a mistake. For her name to appear on this list... it meant... it meant she had to have died...

I paused, my thoughts taking a dark turn. About a year prior, all letters had ceased from the Argent Dawn coming to our family. The last letter we had received had been short. Curt. Very unlike Crysanthemum. What if... what if she had died before then? It would have explained the letter at the very least, in addition to the lack of communication after. My mind was reeling, spinning in different directions, trying to find ways to deny the facts, the evidence, anything. I tripped over the hem of my robe and landed squarely on my backside, but was not bothered by it. I was too busy thinking about that name.

My thoughts and visions of horror were short lived however, as footsteps and loud voices broke through the once silent air. Xaedrienne was speaking louder than usual, giving me a warning that my time was up, and that I needed to get out. As soon as possible. Wasting no time, I quickly cased a fel charm, one that would copy the contents of the papers onto a parchment of my choosing, and quickly placed the originals back into their spots, shifting out of the back of the tent as stealthily as I could.

I didn't wander far, wanting to hear the conclusion of Xaedrienne's conversation and make sure she could find me quickly. We had a lot to discuss, and it was news I dreaded to give. I heard her laugh happily at something Dos said, and their footsteps came to a stop outside his tent.

"I really appreciate the intel Xae." Dos said, his voice silky. "Perhaps the next time you come by it won't be all business, eh?" Xaedrienne giggled and I felt my impatience beginning to kick in. They were flirting, but there were bigger, more important things to take care of. I scolded myself, admonishing my impatience. Xaedrienne deserved a little happiness this night. I knew I was being selfish.

"It was good to see you, Dos." Xaedrienne replied shyly. I heard her shuffle her feet in the dirt. "I'm sure we will cross paths again soon. This is good-bye for now." I could only imagine how Dos's face looked when Xaedrienne sent her signature smoulder his way. The man was probably melting in his steel toed boots.

"Goon night, Xae." He said. Indeed, his voice did sound... wobbly.

Footsteps resumed, this time towards the exit, and I knew this was my cue to intercept my sister as she was exiting the camp, so that we could discuss what we'd found. I choked hard on my words, not knowing how I would tell her what I had seen. My hands trembled as I rolled the parchment containing the names and attached them to my belt. Xaedrienne rounded the corner, and, like a hunter, did a quick sweep of the area, spotting me easily among the brush. I kept my face down and my hands busy, unable to look her in the eye. But I still heard her approach, and she crouched down on her haunches, peering into my face.

"Are you feeling alright?" Xaedrienne asked in concern. "What did you find? Did you get the list?" Slowly, I raised my eyes to meet hers. I couldn't keep the agony from showing on my face, and instantly I regretted ever having made the plan to infiltrate the camp to begin with. At first the color on Xaedrienne's face paled, her pupils dilating and a small gasp escaped her lips. It would seem the shock rendered her limbs useless, as she fell back onto her backside, her hands covering her ears, rocking back and forth.

"No, no, no, no!" She whispered, looking at me again as if to catch me in jest. My face was grim however, and her panic only grew. "No!" Her voice was slowly rising in volume in her histeria, and I quickly placed my hand across her mouth, grabbing her arm.

"Shh!" I said, pulling on her. "We need to get out of here, we can panic later! If were caught by the guard, we'll have more issues on our hands."

We quickly ran through the brush, finding a small cleaned out area to settle before settling on the ground, allowing Xaedrienne to resume her panic-stricken posture.

"Her name was on the list?" She asked, her voice squeaking. I hesitated, but pulled out the copy of the list, and slowly, hands still trembling, handed it to her. She slowly reached forward, taking the list gingerly, as if it would crumble into dust if she touched it, and slowly unravelled it. Her eyes widened as she immediately registered the last name on the list.

The sounds of agony coming from my sister, I had never heard before. It was almost impossible to describe, and the sadness that I'd been holding back came gushing forth, unable to be stopped by my naturally stoic nature. Xaedrienne sobbed, clutching the list to her cheast and heaving in breaths like she had been underwater for hours. Tears streamed down her face unchecked and her shoulders were hunched in defeat. I slowly approached her, and knelt down, embracing her to share the grief. Our sister had died. And her body had been risen by the Lich King.

I could never have anticipated something of this magnitude to happen to our family. It was... disturbing, at best. What perverse nature would subject such a gentle goblin to undeath? One so in tune with the light? It was almost impossible to believe.

I heard Xaedrienne muttering to herself under her breath, and strained my ears to hear her clearly. She was saying, "This can't be happening... This isn't real... How could this have happened?" I was asking myself the same questions. There was so much we didn't know. And I had no idea where to even start looking for the answers.

"She was with the Argent Dawn." Xaedrienne said quietly, her voice hoarse. My mind suddenly jolted. Of course! The Argent Dawn! They had a registry, we would have to travel to the Eastern Plaguelands, likely by Zeppelin...

It would be a lot of work, but if we could get answers, if we could find Crysathemum...I paused, taking a moment to turn my attention back to my sister. Plans could wait. I had to help Xaedrienne get a hold of herself first. Her panic would not allow her to think clearly, and thus, would make it hard for me to sell my plan. I grabbed hold of her arm, and pulled, well, dragged, her further away from the camp.

"Xae, calm down." I told her, carefully keeping my voice as neutral as I could. The plan was still forming in my head, though now it had some direction. It would require a lot of resources, and a collaboration with her to do what I was planning to do. Inside, I could feel the tendrils of betrayal, fear and devastation, trying to take hold of my heart. I ignored them, knowing they would eat at me until I received closure. Something I could not get by crying until my eyes were dry. No, my grieving process would begin when our sister was finally put to rest.

"This is impossible." Xae continued, looking off into the distance. It was as if she hadn't even heard me. "Not Crys... Not Crys..." Her sobbing was choked now, broken, as her heart was. I leant down and again embraced her.

"You have to stay calm Xaedrienne." I told her, firmly as I could. I hesitated. I hadn't even told her the worst part. My stomach seemed to drop, as if a stone had been cast unto it. I didn't know how to tell her that not only had our sister been risen as undead, but... I sighed.

"We have to stay calm." I repeated slowly, forcing her to look at me. Her eyes were rimmed red. "Because... there's more to it than just her name on a list."

Xaedrienne looked puzzled, and rightly so. I felt a lump growing in my throat, and the dread was again at the forfront of my heart. Images of my nightmare came howling back, Crysanthemum's dead eyes staring harshly into my own as she plunged her sword through my body. An echoed laugh resounded in my head that was malice incarnate, and I tried my best not to shiver. An image of Lypson, attacking tirelessly, reminded me of the danger we faced. The real Lich King's power.

"More?" She asked, breaking me from my reverie. I shook my head, trying to clear it. "What else could possibly go wrong?" She threw her hands up in the air, allowing them to fall like dead weight into her lap. Her green hair was frazzled, loose from her usually immaculate ponytail. I shifted uncomfortably.

"Her name was on the short list Xae." I told her, watching her reaction carefully. "When I was... eavesdropping, on Commander Dos, I heard the emmisaries talking to him about that list. He said the names on the list were possibly some of the most dangerous Death Knights anyone has ever encountered... One of them, he said that... That they'd taken on batallions. Entire towns. Obliterated everything in their path. Killing without remorse." I swallowed hard on that. Killing so many people without even batting an eyelash... such was the horrors that the scourge awaited. "She's not just an undead scourge... she is one of the Lich King's right hand men."

A brief silence followed, a dumbfounded look upon my sisters face. She blinked, tilted her head, and gave me a strange, horrified look.

"Right hand man? Entire batallions? Tristee, do you know how... how... insane that sounds?" She asked me, her voice on the brink of hysteria. "I mean... That is so many people... hundreds, thousands! Crysanthemum... Crysanthemum wouldn't hurt a fly on someone's head!" I paused.

"You know how Death Knights are, Xae." I reminded her gently. "You and I have both encountered them. They are merciless. They kill without reason. Without regret. They're so strong and-" I cut off, suddenly, another image had come to me in my head. My jaw went slack and my eyes large. Xaedrienne looked at me concerned, but I wasn't really seeing her. No, I was seeing Copper, holding up Lypson as he expired, apologizing, once again himself, if only for a moment.

"She's in there somewhere." I whispered, so low even I was surprised I could hear it. Xaedrienne shifted closer to me, shaking me with her hand.

"What did you say?" She asked, her voice hesitant. I looked up at her, a wildness about me that I knew would scare and normal person. Xae only recoiled slightly, looking more surprised than anything, and awaited me to speak.

"She's in there somewhere." I repeated, this time with more confidence. "When Lypson was dying, after we had dealt him a fatal blow, he seemed to... come through." I paused, verifying that Xaedrienne was following what I was saying, before continuing. "It was like he was almost himself again." My thoughts were running wild again, the plan I had been forming coming to fruition. "Maybe... maybe there's a way to get them back. Maybe we can turn them back into themselves!" Xaedrienne shook her head.

"Tristee, the only way death knights are released from the Lich King's conciousness is death. True death." She said, her eyes full of sadness. "No amount of us, talking to her, trying to reason with her, will bring her conciousness free of his Horrible curse. If she truly is a Death Knight, then there is no alternative for her. She has to be destroyed."

"You don't know that for sure Xae." I replied. "We've only encountered a couple of Death Knights. Crysanthemum was so strong. She has to be able to break free from the Lich King. She just has to!" I began to pace, thinking further. "I have a plan in mind, one that might-"

"A plan? Tristee." Xaedrienne held my shoulders, stopping my pacing mid stride. I looked at her curiously. She looked weary. "Let go of whatever you're thinking right now. You've seen them Tris. They're nothing but soulless shells of their former existance. Nothing we say will change that. Nothing! You are going to try to put yourself at risk by confronting her?"

Xaedrienne had already seen right through my plan, knowing me well enough to know where my thoughts had taken a turn. But I was tenacious, and I wouldn't be steered from my course.

"Whatever... thing, inhabits our sister's body," She continued, adamant. "It isn't her."

"That can't be true Xae." I told her, gently removing her hands from my shoulders. "Crys has always been a fighter. She could never just stand by idly while people were dying. You know this better than any of us. She was so strong, so brave. Too loyal. Somewhere inside, she's still there, fighting for control of herself again." I could feel it. A glimmer of hope beneath the dread that had been trying to suffocate me. Xaedrienne shook her head sadly at me, sighing.

"I have seen how it works Tristee." She said slowly. "Only once a fatal blow is struck to they even seem to regain a ghost of their conciousness." Tears were welling up in our eyes, and I realized she too was reliving her experience with her fallen comrade.

"I don't want to kill my own twin, Tris." She said, her voice breaking. "I can't kill her. I can't watch the very life drain from her eyes after my arrow has pierced her dead heart."

I knew how she felt. I had avoided imagining having to kill my own sisters. It was unfathomable. During training for the divisions, we were always reminded that scourge did not think, did not feel. They could not be reasoned with and they would never hesitate to kill us if given the opportunity. Despite this, I felt so strongly about Crysanthemum that I couldn't justify just letting the opportunity pass. And if that meant having to kill her ourselves... I shuddered at the thought. I swallowed hard and steeled myself. This wasn't the time for doubts. I had to stay firm in my resolve.

"We need to at least keep this quiet, for now." I said slowly, pulling out a scroll from my pack. " No one needs to know what we've found out here tonight. Not ma, or pops, not Azerieh... no one." Xaedrienne nodded, but opened her mouth as if to protest anyway. I lifted a hand to stop her before she could even begin.

"We'll keep it to ourselves, and we will start looking for answers. Hints to her location, last known waypoints, contacts, scourge hideouts, whatever it takes to find her." I paused, delibrately looking into my sister's eyes.

"You know if we don't, we risk never seeing her again, right?" I asked her, playing on her feelings cautiously. "Even if she is... gone, wouldn't you rather be the one to do it? I wouldn't want someone else to... to end her, and never get the chance to say goodbye." Xaedrienne hesitated. I could tell my logic was working on her.

"We can find her, Xae." I said, resting a hand on her shoulder. "All we have to do is a little hunting."

...

Hello readers! So the plot thickens! Now that two of the sisters have discovered what is going on, the real quests can begin. Some things to note, Tristee and Xaedrienne are both a part of guardian division in Everlook, whos main job focuses on protecting Everlook from danger. This being a neutral aread, the divisions are not only made up of goblins, but other races from Horde and Alliance alike. Crysanthemum at this point in the story, has been a Death Knight for approximately one year. The next perspective will be a fresh one, Azerieh. For all intents and purposes, Xaedrienne's point of view will not be followed in this story. I hope you are enjoying it so far, and please remember to stay tuned!


	11. Driving a Hard Bargain

Hello Readers! Today we're delving into a different point of view, one I have yet to touch on. The youngest, Azerieh. As I said before, This story will eventually swap to third person, and Xaedrienne will not be a first person story-teller. At least not this time. Enjoy!

...

Driving a Hard Bargain

I set down the mug of crafted cider on the hard wood tavern table, an audible "clink" hardly permeating the near-deafening noise that created the early evening atmosphere at Everlook's most popular tavern. My armor chafed across my shoulders as I moved into a more comfortable position, taking a long glance around the room. Most everyone present was a traveler, with the exception of the barkeep and myself, though some were frequent visitors, that came for a quick drink before heading back onto the road to wherever their destination might be.

A stray red curl fell into my face and I blew it to the side, cursing my unruly locks. I sat alone in the corner of the room, where I could see the entirety of the pub, my back close to the wall. I didn't like not having positive control of any area, and my weapons sat at an arms length away, ready to be gripped in the throngs of battle, should it come to that. I wasn't bothered by my solitude, rather gratified by it. Solitude allowed me to be undisturbed. Allowed me to watch without annoyances. Despite being well underage, I still spent quite a bit of time in the pub, sipping my non-alcoholic drinks, just people watching.

My lack of company way most likely due to my age. While not immediately obvious to just anyone, I was only fourteen, hardly even old enough to leave my house alone. But, I was a warrior, one trained by the Orcs of the Horde, one brought up to be strong and intimidating. Not that it was too effective. I scoffed. I was small, because I was a goblin, but for all I lacked in height, I made up for in pure muscle and stock, able to easily counter a full frontal assault just as easily as anyone else, and had taken down more than my fair share of brutes during training. This, likely coupled with my expression of boredom, kept anyone from trying to heckle me, lest they face the brunt of my axes.

"What's on your mind today, Azerieh?" Despite recognizing the voice instantly, my hand still twiched to grab my weapon, and I had to force myself to steady myself. I turned as nonchalantly as possible, to see my cousin already seated next to me, as if she had been there the whole time. Her raven colored buns bounced as she did in her seat, an expression of mirth upon her young features. Her green eyes were wide, and mischevious, a quality most would miss based on the innocent expression she kept on her face at all times.

Lebkha's trade... left something to be desired. A rogue by choice, she used her uncanny abilities to cause all sorts of mayhem, specifically to the trade prince, without anyone knowing it was her. They all suspected it of course, but no one could find any actual proof. She was flawless with her "work", and I was certain any rogues she had learned from _had_ to have been baffled by her unusual talent for all things sneaky. She was small, even for her age, one year less than I, and built to fit into small spaces easily. Her leather armor was made by her own hand, the stiching second to none. Her small daggers sat lethally at her hip, and from experience, I knew she was a fast draw, not to mention the poisons she laced upon the blades.

"I don't know what you're talking about." I replied, taking another swig of the cider. It was tart, and I felt my lips pucker involuntarily.

"Liar." Lebkha teased, a smile still present on her face. "I know that scowl. Your 'Deep in thought, but I'm really just brooding' scowl."

"Tch." I scowled deeper. Lebkha had this annoying habit of prying into people's business, trying to delve into people's secrets. One would think she'd leave her family alone, but I suspected she enjoyed the leverage, so that she could do whatever she pleased without feeling like anyone would try to hold her back. No one in our extended family had expected Lebkha to take a liking to the rogue lifestyle. As a young goblin, she was especially smart, always coming up with ideas and trying to invent new things. Rogues were not uncommon in Everlook. Many rogues passed through constantly, usually very quickly and without much fuss, their clothing dark and auspicious, and their faces hidden by shadows.

Goblin's especially were known for being naturally fond of sneakiness and a comon love of money, something Rogues knew how to get a hold of very easily. However, Lebkha's family...well, they were made up of all healers.

Her mother was a shaman, specializing in healing, and had once worked at a local first aid division in Booty bay, eventually migrating to Everlook to settle down, or so I was told. Her father, our father's brother, was a priest, Discipline if I remembered correctly, although he had long since retired now, preffering to work with his alchemy. All of Lebkha's brothers were priests as well, and it was expected she would have taken up the mantle as well, seeing as how all of her siblings had done so.

Well, at least until she stealthed into the Steamweedle cartel's shipment and pickpocketed quite a bit of the gold.

Now, no one could prove that it was her. Despite being a young rogue, she was more skilled than a seasoned assassin. The cartel had their suspicions though, and set up their own rogues, to counter any intruders that might try to benefit from a little extra profit. This didn't actually stop her from doing anything, but she did take more care in whom she stole from.

"I saw Tristee and Xaedrienne earlier, speaking in whispers." She said casually, filing her nails, a deep blood red color. I looked at her and narrowed my eyes. Why was she telling me this? Tristee and Xaedrienne were pretty close, it wasn't abnormal to see the two together. As for speaking in whispers well... Tristee was a bit paranoid. Likely attributed to her... profession. She probably constantly felt like she was being watched. Honestly, with all those demons around, I would too.

"So?" I replied disinterested, taking a sip of cider. Lebkha quirked an eyebrow, her smirk widening.

"Do they usually leave you out of their family conversations?" Lebkha said, half curiously, half trying to get a rise out of me. I sighed.

"I don't know, probably." I said. "Tristee and I don't exactly get along. I can't be around her for more than a few minutes at a time without feeling like my soul is being siphoned out." Lebkha giggled, and I rolled my eyes at her amusement. "Besides, they're sisters too. They're allowed to talk in whispers if they want. I'm sure I'll find out about it later anyway." Green eyes narrowed at my indifference, and I found it almost comical the pout upon the young rogue's face.

"You're no fun Azerieh." She said, crossing her arms and sinking lower into her chair. "Can't you just rage out once?" This time I laughed. Not really out of amusement, but still. Anyone who had seen me fight knew it was not a good idea to attempt to play with my temper. They didn't call it "going berserk" for nothing. Plus, despite my size, I could do quite a chunk. Lebkha knew this, but it was normal for her to try to get a rise out of anyone she could.

"What are you doing here by yourself anyway?" Lebkha asked, peering around as if looking for a hidden person to come out and join me. I deadpanned.

"Drinking cider and trying to relax."

"You relax in a pub?" Lebkha asked in disbelief, body inclined half over the table.

"Sort of." I replied, leaning back in my chair, hearing a loud creaking noise. "It's better than going home and watching my sister's chat like gossipy old goblins." Lebkha chuckled, picking at her nails again.

"I wouldn't exactly call this... relax worthy." Lebkha said, hardly glancing around, her ears twitching. Wouldn't somewhere... quieter, be better?" I shrugged in response. It mattered very little to me whether or not there was a lot of noise. In fact, the more noise, the more comforting it was. I liked it. It felt comfortable. I could tell though, looking at Lebkha, that she wasn't here for small talk. I settled into my chair and let out a sigh, giving her my full attention.

"Anyway," She said, setting her daggers on the table in front of her. "Got any new missions you've been workin' on?" Blunt. She was trying to get to something. I narrowed my eyes, instantly suspicious of my cousin's motives.

"Not really." I replied, slowly turning my cup around in my hands. "My battallion isn't qualified to register just yet. Most of our personnel are two young." It bit my ego a bit, having to admit it out loud. I personally felt as if we were more than capable of being sent to the field, but no. The chief elders and the faction leaders had made it pretty clear that soldiers my age had to wait until they were a bit more... seasoned, before they could start proving their worth. I scoffed, and noted that Lebkha raised an eyebrow, a slight smirk building upon her face.

"Sounds super boring." She said, her smirk now overwhelming her face. I rolled my eyes.

"Yeah, I have to say, I'd rather be punching in some baddies right now." I offered. I had already however resignned myself to the fact that I wasn't going to be able to fight off the scourge threat for one more year. Meanwhile, all my sisters were already out there, fighting and defending, while I stayed on the sidelines, waiting for another year to pass. It wasn't fair. I _wanted_ to be out there. Fighting. Bashing in rotted brains and saving the day. I was so done living in my sister's shadows. It was time to show what I was _really_ capable of.

"You know Az," Lebkha said, her voice silky and oh so suspicious. "A couple of... aquaintances of mine, we've been talking." Her tone suddenly hushed, though her posture and expression remained the same. She was using deflection. Trying to avoid as much eavesdropping as possible. I leaned in slightly, concentrating on her voice.

"A few of us know of a scourge base raid camp near by. They've been talking about finally infultrating it and taking a big chunk outta the enemy. Maybe, you know, if you aren't too busy 'relaxing' you'd like to come?"

"Not of age." I immediatly grunted out, not even thinking before speaking. Raids were absolutely frowned upon for younger grunts. It was usually the place for experienced fighters, people who had seen things, fought things, had the battle scars of a hero. I had none of these things. "If I was caught, if _you_ were caught, I'd go straight to a detention center." Lebkha deadpanned, obviously not caring about my excuse at all.

"This group works a little... differently." She insisted, her eyes sweeping the room quickly. "Age isn't a thing. You handle your own, you take your own risks. No one says anything to anyone else, its all kept within our group. No one asks any questions, as long as you pull your own weight."

I paused, thinking about what she was saying. I didn't know what group she was talking about, but I most certainly had never heard of them before. Probably on purpose, or at least so it seemed.

"I don't know..." I said, my resolve faltering, unable to find a solid reason to deny her. She could sense that I was having a hard time not saying no, and like a cat, her eyes seemed to narrow like a predator scoping out it's prey.

"Besides, there's quite a bity of loot and gold involved. But, you wouldn't be interested in _that_."

Bingo.

"Alright," I said begrudgingly, leaning in and speaking softly. "You got me. When is it?" The smirk on Lebkha's face almost made me want to withdraw, but I waited, aprehensive, for more information.

"After dusk tonight, behind the wall on the south side." She said, her voice rushed. "Come geared up and without any shadows tailin' ya. They will know." She said, her eyes very focused on something over my shoulder. She stood up, smirk ever present, winked, and disappeared before my very eyes, causing me to blink in astonishment. Damn rogues.

"On your tab, Ms. Hexknot?" Kalen, the barkeep asked. I nodded, gently placing a few gold down on the table as a tip, picking up my helm and donning it, before stepping outside into the mid-afternoon sun.

The brisk noon breeze felt strong against my back as I meandered home. Not a far walk by any means, but I knew the sooner I got there the sooner I could prepare myself for what I was going to do. There were things I needed to take care of, food preperation, grabbing my potions and flasks, packing spare armor and my fix-it-all kit, not to mention additional unmentionables. Just in case. I would also need time to come up with an explanation as to why I would be out so late, and possibly overnight. My parent's weren't the suspicious type, but they would have reason to if I gave them one.

"Azerieh!" I heard my mother's croaking voice come over from across our small front lawn. Our portion of a small wooden gate was closed, latched tightly against the frame. Ma probaboly felt it would be unsafe unless one of the children were home. After all, all of her children had been well trained in combat... in some way shape or form. She had all the security she could ever want, or need, and all for free. Truly a good deal.

"Hey ma," I said, opening the gate and stepping through quickly, closing it behind me. Our lawn was frosted with a light bit of snow, and crunched beneath my boots as I made my way toward the entrance to our home. My ma was standing there, head poking out, eyes ticking back and forth as if expecting something to jump out and attack her. I looked around quickly.

"Where's pops at?" I asked, not seeing my old man anywhere in sight. Ma shrugged, beckoning me in warmly.

"He had to do a quick run out to the camps. He said he'd be back soon." She said, closing the door behind me and bustling back into the kitchen. I set my helm on the hat-stand and plopped down onto a soft cushy chair, feeling a nap in order.

"How was your day, dear?" Ma asked, setting a glass of water in front of me. I gulped it down quickly, and looked at her.

"Been busy, working at the batallions. Then I when to Kalen's pub. Lebkha came to chat and then I came home." Simple enough. My ma seemed to think about it, but shrugged her thought off, shaking her head and smiling.

"You children are always so busy these days." She said. "Tristee and Xaedrienne just talked to me about their batallions sending them on an overseas mission. How exciting! Just like Crys... Perhaps they'll be able to catch her out there somewhere!"

"Wait, what?" I spun around to face her, suddenly confused. "They're doing what?"

"Oh." Ma looked thoughtful. "They said they were getting sent to take care of buisness for their divisions. I only assumed it would be short, but they avoided the topic when I asked, talking about 'secret' clearances and the sort. Not my cup of kaja-cola to be honest, but eh." She turned, walking back into the kitchen.

My mind was spinning in a bunch of directions. Both Tristee and Xaedrienne's divisions were homeguard. They had alternate divisions that traveled. Something was going on, and I was going to find out what.

...

Oh my goodness that took altogether way too long to write out. Luckily I only have Azerieh's perspective one more time after this, and then shortly after I will be swapping to third person. It's hard to capture each sister's personality.

I hope so far it's enjoyable!


	12. Planning Ahead

Planning Ahead

...

Hey everyone! I have been busy, but I'm trying to catch up as quickly as possible! So, without further ado, here is the next chapter!

...

The plan was simple. In order to find Crysanthemum, it was going to require us to get some outside information. Dates, names. Places. People who'd seen her last. People who had been in her division in the Argent Dawn. People who were _in_ the Argent Dawn. These things took time, and there was one place we could go where we would find that information.

Orgrimmar.

Neither my sister nor I had ever been to Orgrimmar before, and the journey itself would need some foreplanning. Luckily we wouldn't need to cross the great sea, all traveling could be done on land or by air, and we wouldn't need to catch a Zeppelin. But, in order for us to even make the trip, a few loose ends had to be taken care of first. One of them was getting out of duty to make the trip.

Each of our defense divisions had a travel section, but neither of us were a part of that. Rather than try to transfer, which could tank months, we decided to just put in an extended leave request. They didn't have to know how long we would be gone, and even if they did, we would have just given them a number.

Xaedrienne had an easy time getting out of her division. Her commander, an imposing human with little patience, basically shoo'd her away, telling her to mark her name off the calender without a second glance. Dos would be harder. I told Xaedrienne I'd meet her home, but she insisted I meet her by the edge of the forrest instead. I shrugged it off, and headed to see Dos. Knowing I was going to need a little extra help, I pulled out my observer, and had him trailing me as I walked up to my commander.

"Tristee, what a pleasant surprise." Dos said, putting down his paperwork. "What can I help you with?"

"I need to take a leave period. I can't tell you how long, or where I'm going. And I'm going to need you to keep it pretty hush hush." Dos blinked at me.

"I'm not sure I'm understanding." He said slowly, scratching his bald head. "You need to take a leave of absense, for an unknown amount of time, to an undiscolsable place, _and_ you want me to stay as indiscriminate and quiet as possible about it."

"It sounds like you understood just fine." I said cheerfully, patting my demon's tendrils fondly. "That's exactly what I want." I watched Dos eye my observer warily, it's large demon eye trained on Dos hungrily. I could tell he was uncomfortable, and I took note to make my visit as brief as possible.

"But... Why?" He asked, confusion apparent on his face. "I don't understand did you get spooked the other night? You looked fine but... I mean." He seemed to struggle for a moment, looking down at the ground. " I can understand it botherin' ya. Copper resigned earlier this morning-"

"Copper what?" I screeched unintentionally.

This was a surprise to me. Copper was a very level headed goblin. I knew he was upset by his brother's death, but I didn't realize it was that serious. For a moment I imagined holding Crysanthemum's cold body in my arms and I shuddered, unnerved. Commander Dos continued to look puzzled.

"Yeah..." He continued. "Said he'd done his time and needed to reevaluate some things. Not a crime. He shrugged. "Just seems like everyone is running away lately..." He trailed off. It was almost sad, to see this man reduced to this. He was commanding a division that had downed a behemoth, and now he was losing them. But I had better things to do. More important things. Family was more important.

I sighed unhappily. It was hard to face all these problems, and I was sure that Dos had the full brunt of it. We built a lot of things, machines, vehicles. Traps, cargo... But we weren't built like those things. We had feelings, urges. I couldn't blame copper. Not one bit.

"No, it's something more... family related." I hedged. At least it wasn't a total lie. "Nows the time for us to really treasure our time together. It's just a break, commander. I'll be back."

I felt guilty lying to him, but it was necessary. The less he knew the better.

Dos sighed and scratched his head.

"I sure hope so Tristee." He said. "For Everlook's sake." I nodded respectfully, turning heel and quickly leaving, before my observer could get carried away with his meal. Disgruntled, the creature followed me, upset that he'd lost most of his meal.

"You'll have plenty of time to feast later." I told him in demonic, counting on his hunger to keep him in line. "For now, we move on."

The edge of the forrest that Xaedrienne was in was darkened, and far from the bright lights of Everlook. Snow was coating the ground gently, and I drew my scarf over my face, hating the cold air. I peered into the looming darkness, and saw a dull light flickering amoungst the trees. I walked toward it, and saw the outline of my sister, hunched over mismatched chunks of metal. She had a screwdriver in her hand, tinkering away at a side panel that looked like a two-man rocket. My feet crunched in the snow and I cringed at the sound. Xaedrienne turned, smiling at me.

"Oh, there you are." She said, standing up and dusting off her mail greaves. "It will be ready by tonight for sure." She said, patting the rocket fondly. "I wish I had the time to paint it but..." She trailed off, looking at her creation sadly. I had no idea she had even been working on something like this. Xaedrienne often disappeared for hours at a time, but I'd always assumed it had been to go hunting. It looks like a good majority of it had been spent welding together a rocket. Go figure.

She dug through her bag, pulling out a bottle of sealant and expertly applying it around the outside of the panel she had just installed. I watched her as she capped off the bottle and tossed it into her bag. "Have to wait for the proper cure time before we can take off. Besides, gotta give the family a pretty sound alibi before we can really leave." She looked at me and I shrugged.

"Don't look at me. I haven't come up with anything. What about you?" I plopped down onto the soft snow next to her, admiring her handiwork. She sighed.

"The only solid thing I can come up with is that a small group from our batallions were called to do a special recon mission." She said thoughtfully. I gaped at her. It was vague, but thorough enough to work. "Ma and Pops will believe it easy enough... But Azerieh, she will probably see right through it." She shook her head, rolling her eyes.

"She'll be suspicious."

"Isn't she always?" I countered scathingly. Xae shot me a scolding look.

"I know you two don't always get along, but jeez, this is ridiculous!" She said in exsasperation. "You don't know when we're even going to see them again. What if... What if what happened to Crys happens to her? Huh?"

I recoiled, realizing quickly what she meant. Despite being annoyed by my sister, I still loved her. I wouldn't want the same fate for her. No matter what.

"You're not wrong." I aquiesced, standing up slowly. "But I don't really want a lecture on 'sisterly love', if that's alright with you." Xae was about to protest but I held up a hand.

"We don't really have the time for that anyway." I argued, pointing at the sky. "We'll talk about my issues with Azerieh on your rocket if you really are so inclined." Xaedrienned huffed, but made no further argument, knowing I was right.

"We could also throw in that it's targeting scourge encampments." Xae said thoughtfully as we walked back towards the lit city. "Makes it sound a little less sneaky."

"Sounds good to me." I replied, adjusting the pack on my back. "Let's just hope we're long gone before anybody questions the validity of our 'mission'." Xae nodded, and we trecked through the gate to the city, ready to enact our plan to find our sister.

...

Hi everyone! This chapter is a little shorter, which I apologize for, but the next chapter will probably be extremely lengthy, so please, just bear with me. I hope you're enjoying the story so far, and there will be much more happening soon! Thanks for reading, and until next time!


	13. The Awakening

The Awakening

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"Awaken... soldier."

It was a low, coarse voice that echoed, broken through the silence that I drifted in. "Death has not yet won this day. I call upon you, to serve unwaveringly, to the armies of the scourge..." The voice was commanding. Final. It bespoke authority, and my very bones ached to listen to it. To obey. To follow.

As the voice trailed off into a low echo, I felt a grip on my conciousness, vice-like and commanding, drawing me to open my eyes. To become concious again.

My eyes snapped open, and I drank in the sight, the sounds, the smells, of a dark dungeon like cathedral. Its walls, gothic in style, eerily drew in breaths of cold, frigid air, as if it were alive. The beams supporting the structure's cieling were arced, as was the cieling itself, though dark as the abyss and impossible to make out. It seemed to all draw to a point in the unseen epicenter of the circumfrance of the room. Shelves, tables and the floor were coated and stacked with books upon books, looking old and tattered, some dusty and falling to pieces. I could see stains of blood on the floor, though it had long since been dry. There were several unmoving bodies around me, their corpses pale and nondescript.

Though I knew it was, I could not _feel_ the cold air upon my skin. However, this did not particularly pique my interest. It were as if I were merely noting that my skin was green. A fact, not to be questioned, not to be impressed upon. It was not bothersome. It was... naural. Real. Unbridled and built in a lust for combat. I knew I would need no feeling for the one I would fight for.

I sat up slowly, noting the subtle cracking in my bones. My mind produced a phrase, "rigor mortis", and I realized, without surprise, that I had died.

"It fades, the stiffness." A voice, hard and unfamiliar, called. I looked up to see a human male, his armor a shiny blue, his hair cropped short and eyes cold as they stared at me. His posture suggested authority, and immediately I assumed a kneel, deigning respect to my superior.

"Stand, knight. Prove your worthiness."

I obeyed without a second though, and stood, stiffly. I mentally noted that I was not clothed, my body bare save for cloth bindings that were loose and frayed. No shame crossed my mind however, and I took note that an ugly scar covered my abdomen, its edges ragged. My skin was a pale green, but looked not to have rotted yet, likely cause of my recent ressurection. I watched warily as an elf walked forward, her body lithe and her eyes cold, her blood red hair pulled into a sharp bun.

"Mostly intact, one battle wound. " She circled me, taking a short note on her parchment, before walking back before the human male. "Rigor mortis is fading quickly. This subject is well preserved. Awaiting analysis and trial."

I did not flinch, though reflexively, something in the back of my mind tried to. I filed away my bodys response for assessment later, instead turning to look at the pair, who were assessing me as I stood before them.

"What say you then, Goblin?" The tall human male asked, his cold blue eyes calculating.

The response was immediate, without question.

"I rise only to serve the Lich King. I responded automatically, my voice echoing, as if their were another person inside my body. "My sword shall clear his path of the unworthy. For the glory of the Scourge."

A smirk befell the man's face. Briefly, as if only a whisper, something inside of me began to scream. Its horrible crying for a moment, startled me. However, I quickly expelled it from my mind, staring ahead in silence. It would not do to show weakness before the Lich King's soldiers.

"Very well... Death Knight." The man said slowly. "Your first task is to prepare your rune weapon." He gestured towards a rack of war-torn swords, that had been sharpened and inscripted with runes. I glanced over, analyzing each one, before looking at him again.

"Once you've chosen your weapon, you will take it to the rune forge." He pointed to a giant skull like structure, a peculiar blue frosty essense surrounding the forge. "There, you will inscript it with your chosen specialty. It will be clear to you once you choose your weapon."

I walked over to the racks, inspecting the weapons carefully. A slightly jagged, yet sharp two-hander sat, collecting dust, behind several other, newer, looking blades. Red runes were carved upon its blade, shining delicately. I picked it up, weighing it in my hands, and felt as an odd aura emanated from its hilt. As I walked to the forge, and placed it on the slab, an icy wind, seemingly from no where seemed to surround the weapon, emboldening it with its essense. It swirled around it lethally, and I felt a presense stand behind me.

"It would seem that frost has called you to be its champion." The elf from before said, her voice impassive. I turned slightly, to see she had a bundle in her arms, blackened and shined, dark plate robes. She held out the gear to me, and I took it carefully, quickly donning the armor.

"This is your armor. Suffer well, companion." She said. I nodded, and she walked away, likely to attend to another party inside the necropolis. I continued to don the roves, musty with age and stained with soot. The plate fit properly, and would not trip me as I moved about. The hood shielded most of my face from the poor lighting in the necropolis, and I noted the small trinkets, clipping them to my ears carefully. Grabbing my blade, I travelled back over to the human male from before, and he carefully scanned me, likely deciding whether or not I had followed his instructions.

"I see that Frost has chosen you." He said, his voice low. "Go then. The Lich King requires complete obedience. You'll find a key on the table to the training section. Take it and release a prisoner. Kill the unworthy, and then find your way to the Lich King."

Following his instructions, I walked to the table he spoke of and took the key. It was old, rusted, but looked usable. I looked over to the training area, where several prisoners were shackled to the wall, their faces downcast and posture broken. The shackles of unholy energy bound them at the feet and wrists, binding them to a prison from which they could not escape. I hesitated for a moment, unsure of myself.

"Go forth..." A voice, familiar, echoed in my head. "Slaughter an unworthy vessel..."

This was the master's voice. I knew. His will was absolute. There was no denying, there was no disobedience. My eyes caught sight of a young looking male gnome, his skin pale and marked with bruises. His brown hair was greasy and unkempt, his eyes an ice-cold blue. He wore basic armor, plate like my own, in a burgandy-brown color, looking older and worse for the wear than my own.

I carefully stepped forward, unlocking the runelock with the crusted over key. Without any trouble, the lock popped off, and the unholy energies that bound the gnome disappeared, allowing him to step free. I could see fear in his expression, and, for another brief moment, unease was felt somewhere deep within me. I pushed it to the side, but the question remained.

Why was I doing this?

"Slay the weak..." The voice echoed again."Slay all who do not serve my will..." All doubt and uncertainty disappeared in that moment, and I raised my blade, intending to make his death quick and painless. As I rose it however, the gnome held up a hand, his expression unreadable.

"You would strike me down without allowing me the decency of a blade?" I paused, casting a glance at the man in blue armor and he nodded infintessimaly. I nodded back, taking a step back, lowering my sword. I gestured for him to be quick, and he knelt down, picking up a sharpened sword that was covered in blackened blood. The gnome took a stance, testing the swords weight, before snarling, and chargin me, the sword aimed for my throat.

"I'll show you unworthy!" He spat, his rage evident in his posture. Almost effortlessly, I parried his blow with my blade, the sword feeling like a mere extension of my arm. The gnome growled and charged me again, unphased by my lack of surprise at his attack. Easily, I dodged and countered, slicing through his armor effortlessly, the plague swirling around him as the frost fever set into his bloodstream.

He stumbled, fumbling for his sword and I tripped him, sending him sprawling to the floor, wimpering. He attempted to raise himself on his hands, but I quickly buried my blade in his back, twisting it, ensuring that his demise would be quick. His body crumpled to the ground, and no sound was heard from the creature.

Without so much as a backwards glance, I pulled my sword from his body, and headed back up the steps to await new orders from the man in blue armor, who was waiting, smirk upon his face.

"Well done, Death Knight." The man said, glancing at the corpse of the gnome, which the ghouls had seen fit to begin to tear to pieces, rending his dead flesh and sinking their teeth into his limbs. He pointed to the left casually.

"Follow the paths to our Lord. He himself will give you your next order." He saluted me, and I him, and immediately I turned.

Despite not recognizing the structure I was in, my body seemed to know exactly where it was going. Upon the balcony of the cathedral-like building, I was immediately assaulted by a flash of what I knew to be a memory.

Laughter. Something about tea and... Andorhal? I saw an Orc smiling at me, his armor bronze and his smile mischevious. But before I could even process what I was seeing, it had disappeared, leaving me with mere tendrils of a ghost of my past.

"Come forth, Death Knight."

The voice that had been echoing in my head was suddenly right in front of me. I was already kneeling before the Lich King, a man thrice my height, his aura intimidating, commanding. I turned my gaze upward, and lookied into his face, his cold eyes trained upon my figure, scrutinizing me coldly. I knelt, unable to move, waiting for him to speak again. To command me to carry out his will.

"I have been watching you from afar for quite some time." He said, his voice penetrating my very being. "Your talents before undeath made you a suitable caditate for this life. I will continue to watch closely as you become the champion the scourge has been searching for..."

He trailed off, but I felt something in me acknowledge that the conversation was over, and I quickly turned heel and made way to the human in blue armor. However, before I could speak to him, I was intercepted by a rather brutish looking Tauren. His fur was pitch black, his eyes a cold blue. His left horn looked to be hacked off, and there was a nasty scar across his snout that had festered over. His blade practically froze the air around him.

"Halt, champion." He said, his deep voice echoing with a second undertone, eerie and dark, not at all like a tauren. "I was told you are of frost. I must escort you to the mid-level for training." I paused, confused. The tauren held out a hand, gesturing that I should follow, and without questioning, I walked behind him as we stepped towards a glowing red disk near the front of the necropolis.

...

Part one of Crysanthemum's undeath! Her story as a DK will differ from the starting quests in the game, I'm taking some creative liberty, so don't be too upset! Enjoy!


	14. The Awakening pt2

The Awakening, Part. 2

...

Upon stepping on the small red disk, I was teleported to a floor in the structure with no windows, just walls filled with tattered drapes and dust. It was similar in structure to the first floor I had been on, where the cieling met at an unknown point, and similarly too, there was a gutted out circular area, filled with all manners of strange creatures, frozen in blocks of ice.

The room itself had random spikes of ice protruding from the deck, reaching towards the cieling, unmelting, glinting in the soft blue light that illuminated the area. I caught my reflection in a particularly large chunk of ice, and was startled at what I saw. Something deep within me seemed surprised that I looked... like myself? Things such as appearances were trifling to a soldier of the Lich King, and I turned away quickly, not trusting myself to not ask more questions.

"Welcome, newcomer."

I turned slightly, seeing a skeletal spirit, bowing gently, floating closer to me, it's empty eye sockets turned directly toward me, glowing a faint blue color. His form, though skeletal, was robed in vestmants fit for someone of great importance, though the edges were frayed terribly, showing their true age. Adorned on his cranial was a cloth helm, dust gathered upon it, sitting slightly lopsided atop his head. His arms were lengthy, and not a trace of sinew, muscle or the like could be found on his person.

"I take it you have been called to the way of Frost." He continued, gesturing that I follow him. The Tauren male nodded, saluting the Lich and turning heel, disappearing into the ramparts. I turned my attention back to the Lich, nodding my head curtly once, not feeling the necessity to speak.

The creature floated towards a large tablet, the pages worn thin with years past, the language one I did not understand. I glanced up at him briefly, expecting him to speak.

"Frost is a quiet learner." He said after a few moment's pause. "It does not feed off of death like our Unholy counterparts, nor does it feast upon blood to survive, as do our Blood brothers and sisters." He paused, pulling a strange rune stone from the desk on which the tablet sat.

"It is mostly silent... Deadly. Precise." He slammed the stone down on the desk, and I blinked. "The discipline requires utmost attention." He floated on and I followed, finding a grotesque looking ghoul, chained to the wall, not frozen, but shivering from either the cold, or fear. Which, I wasn't sure.

"Test your true abilities on this creature." The Lich insisted, his sightless eyes trained on it. "It was once a lowly human but now... well, you'll get the point."

Without hesitation, I lifted my blade, and felt the presense of frost encapsulate the sword. Swiping deftly, I struck the stringy flesh of the creature, and saw the frost begin to spread. The ghould began to howl, a terrible sound, scratching at its appendages as they slowly froze and succumbed to the frost fever.

"Hmmm... A natural I see." The skeletal creature announced to himself, scratching his bony chin. "No wonder... Ah well. We shall in time perfect your form, but for now, it seems you will do just fine." I nodded, reholstering my blade, and my ears perked when I heard soft padding footsteps from behind me.

"Not much in da way o' talkin, eh mon?" A voice jibed.

I turned to see a well plated troll, his skin a sickly green shade, his veins black and his hair whiter than frost. His eyes, a glowing blue, eyed me up disdainfully, almost analytically, as he judged my worth before I had had time to prove it. He chuckled, placing his bloodied helm upon the tabletop, grinning at the Lich.

"Ah, Aktemi." The Lich said, disgruntled at the troll's appearance. "How nice of you to join us." Aktemi scoffed, waving off the Lich.

"Don' ya lie ta meh to make meh feel betta." He said, his trollish accent ever present. "I be knowin' ya can' stand meh." I felt that, had the Lich had eyes, they would have been rolling.

"We cannot complete the Gauntlet without a general present, you audacious fool." He snapped, looking at the troll crossly. My attention immediately snapped back to the troll, looking him over again. _He_ was a general? The troll's expression was a cross between boredom and indifference, scratching at his black face paint that was cracked with wear. The Lich did not look amused, but the general did not seem to care. I observed his tusks, long and sharp like a dagger, with dried blood upon them. His facial paint was similar to that of a skull, accentuating his cold blue gaze.

"Eh, calm ya spirit down." He replied, waving off the spector. "I be gettin' the recruits what dey deserve. I'll make sure dey worth da Lich King's service. Ya not be needin' ta worry yaself." His eyes settled on me, observing me closely. He seemed to be searching for something in me, and internally, something in me tried to flinch. I stood, impassive, allowing him to see that I would be a worthy champion of our King.

"New recruits, to the loading bay!" A strong, echoed voice called. I glanced over to see the Tauren who had directed me to the platform, gesturing to yet another telemetry beacon, presumably to transport the "recruits" to another level. Without a second glance at the General, I stepped forward onto the beacon, beaming down to another level, where I saw a skeletal Gryphon, it's bony wings flapping and it's beak clicking as it watched the other Death Knights warily. It's master, a decaying blood elf, stood unaware of his sudden visitors.

"Newbies." Aktemi said, poking his thumb at the group impassively. The tauren snuffed at the general, no amusement on his face. He addressed the Gryphon master, who then turned his attention to our motely group.

"To the forrest outside Andorhal." The Tauren said, his voice low. The blood elf nodded, and I noted that his mouth was sewn shut. As my brain processed what the Tauren had said, another flash of a memory seemed to shoot across my vision. Hazy. It looked as if I had been staring out at the sea, when a hand tapped my shoulder. I turned, looking at a wolfish creature, _a Worgen_ , my mind told me, dressed in a simple white tunic and a tabard bearing an emblem that looked vaguel familiar.

"We are near Andorhal." He said, his voice a low growl. "You should prepare for landing, help Rantok out with the boxes..."

It faded nearly as quickly as it had come, but it left me reeling, almost like vertigo. I hesitated, blinking, not knowing how long I was entranced by the vision. I could feel someone's gaze and I slowly rotated, catching the gaze of the troll general, his eyes searching my own.

He had a peculiar look in his cold, blue eyes, and I suddenly felt as if he was analyzing me. Had he noticed my moment of hesitation? Had he seen something in me that I hadn't? Was he searching me for weakness, a weakness I didn't even know I had?

A tap to the shoulder caused me to break eye contact, and I clambered onto the skeletal creature, it's bony structure vibrating with false life. It rose, and dived into the plaguelands below, and I held onto it's spine, careful not to get bucked off. The creature landed gracefully on the ground, and I dismounted, the grypon immediately taking flight back up to the necropolis.

It was dark, though not impermeable for my eyes to see. I could almost see as if it were daylight, the trees and sky each with its own distinguishable details, easy to make out. My eyes were working as if they'd never truly been open to begin with. I noted that the forrest was not thick, nor was there much vegetation. In fact, most of the vegetation seemed to have died out, and the trees were bare, pustules of rot attached to various areas on their trunks.

I adjusted my blade on my back, looking for some semblance of my bearings. A small, dull light caught my eye, and I walked towards it, finding that a small fire had been started, and a few disciples of frost were already standing, unmoving, awaiting further instruction a ways from the flames. They wore robes identical to my own, save for some being a more bronze-brown color, or looking more torn, but essentially all uniform.

I stood, faceing away from the fire, looking over my company as the last of the knights flew down. Most of the knights were Orcs and humans; male and female, in various stages of decay, all with cold blue eyes that betrayed their very nature. A few night elves too were present, their tall, athletic bodies ever imposing and standing just seperate from the rest of the group, their muscles tense and bodies seemingly ready to pounce at any moment. Only one tauren and one blood elf was present, two gnomes and a few Draenei, totaling around fifty disciples. I was the only goblin that I could see, and I noticed a few of the disciples look at me with cold interest.

"Dis not be a lesson you'll soon be forgettin'." The troll general had made his way down, appearing opposit the rest of our party, his features nearly demonic in the firelight. I noticed a few of the knights regarded the troll with great respect, and it occured to me that many of them had likely seen the troll in battle, something likely to have been impressive to see.

"It be testin' time." None of the frost disciples spoke, some glanced cautiously at one another, as if they too had a sense of dread suddenly wash upon them.

"Da Lich King not be needin' weak soldiers." The general continued, picking at his face paint again. "On'y da strong will be servin' our King. Ya have ya weapon. Prove ya can use it. Ah horn will sound at break 'o dawn. Da survivors be meetin' back here ta head back ta da Necropolis." He looked among us, his gaze training on certain faces, mine included, as if he had already judged those he expected to fail. It was a death match. Ironic. Brought into second life, only to have it brought to an end.

I would not go down so easily. The Lich King's will was absolute. I would not fail him, nor would I prove unworthy of the life he had given me. I would serve him until this body crumpled into dust. My mind was set, and I knew I would fight to the death, for the Lich King.

I was already running into the trees before any of my groupmates could blink an eye. My small body allowed me to move quickly, weaving in and out of the trees, my robes hardly a hindrance as I found a particularly gnarled tree, a small hole dug into it's trunk. I wriggled inside, to find it had been hollowed out by some creature, likely long ago. I crouched down low, my sword already in hand, waiting patiently for my first victim. My sword seemed to thrum with excited energy, as if it too had a sense for bloodshed. I gripped it tightly.

I sensed fear, a pang across a hesistant mind. I peered out of the sliver of tree, to see a human male making his way through my portion of the forest, his hands gripped tightly around a massive two handed sword, his face a trained stoic, thought his hands almost seemed to tremble. He was looking around nervously, as if looking to see if he could find someone weaker than himself to kill, so that he could survive until dawn.

A voice told me to destroy the weak, kill those unworthy vessels, and I pounced, my sword swiping clean through his arm. He gasped out in surprise, stumbling backwards. I charged him again, only to be barely parried by his blade, his eyes wide and armor lopsided with his fall.

I wasted no time in again attacking, this time my blade swiping across his cheastplate as he attempted to scramble away from me. I took his moment of shock to strike his head clean from his shoulders, the head rolling away as his body twitched, then lay still. I walked over and grabbed his head by the hair, gazing into the lolling face and throwing it into a small patch of brush, moving his body out of the path of the forest. I knew there would be more like him, so I quickly resumed my hiding spot, waiting silently.

Over the course of a few hours, several unfortunate souls made it through the portion of the dead forest that I was hiding in. I had a count of about thirteen, when I felt a considerably stronger, more confident aura headed in my direction.

This presence did not contrain a trace of fear or doubt, and instantly I knew I was not dealing with prey. I was dealing with a predator. One who was now hunting me. Sniffing me out. Lurking in the shadows.

"You can come on our from your little hiding spot." A female voice, a dark echo, called out. "We both know it's going to be one or the other that makes it back. Best make this quick." I didn't bother to reply, instead stepping out from the underbrush to get a good look at my adversary.

It was one of the Night Elven women, her hair long and dark green, it's edges frayed and tangled with branches and dead leaves. Her green skin was darkened with decay, insinuating that she'd been dead for quite some time before they had risen her. Her armor, a bronze version of my own, was soaked in blackened blood, her finders twitching around her twin blades.

"Ah..." She said, a sneer upon her sallow face. "A whee goblin." She leered at me, and I stared back, not intimidated. "I expected a stronger creature... like an Orc... To have taken out nearly half our number by themselves..." She circled me, not unlike a cat, her eyes trained on my body as if expecting it to pounce. I watched her warily.

"But no..." She said, stopping short. " I can sense it in you... something stronger, than what meets the eye... No matter." She brandished her swords at me, their edges jagged and littered with runes. "Shall we get on with it then? Dawn is nearly breaking." I felt her frost presence creeping up, ghosting along the ground like a low mist. I took a step back, about to steel myself.

That step back nearly cost me my second life.

A branch had caught onto the broken hem of my robe and tore me down, sprawling to my back. My blade was flung from my grasp in surprise, and I slowled, quickly beginning to panic. All this planning, all this killing. Was it all for nothing? I grasped for my sword, not allowing my eyes to leave the Night elf's face, but could not reach my blade. Curses!

"Good-bye, little Goblin." She said, stepping on the edge of my robe, preventing me from scrambling away and grabbing my weapon. "I'll be sure to engrain your face in my memory for an eternity." Her swords were high above her head, and for a moment, something in me flashed another memory. A sword through my abdomen. Incredible pain. The writing disease of death. More pain. I growled, leaning forward, ready to kick the Night Elf's knees, and hopefully knock her off balance, when suddenly I heard a low whistling, and the Night Elf dropped her blades, black blood streaming from her mouth as she sputtered, falling to her knees, and then her face, to expire. An axe jagged and as large as my whole body was embedded into her back. It had a dark troll fetish attached to the hilt, and I sat, confused, as I watched the general step out of the shadows.

For a moment, he and I observed each other silently. Why had he killed her? She, from an outside perspective, should have likely won. Even had I knocked her legs out from beneath her, I would have had to scramble to retrieve my weapon, and then attack her before she could recover. Glancing over to where my weapon was, I realized the probability of me having survived the encounter would have been slim. The troll walked forward, roughly pulling the axe out of her corpse, wiping the blade on her cloak. He returned my gaze, and held out his hand, presumably to help me up.

I stared at his hand warily, narrowing my eyes. I still didn't understand why he was helping me. If I couldn't defeat this night elf myself... what good was I to the Lich King?

"Why... Why did you help me?" I asked, taking his hand and allowing him to pull me to a stand. He buckled his axe to his belt and shrugged, cracking his neck as he looked around. He chuckled darkly at my expression, and for a moment, I felt that he wasn't going to answer.

"Can' let ya die just yet." He said, his face unreadable. "Da Lich King sends his regards. Next time ya may not be so lucky." He smiled, thinking for a moment. "Besides, can' let all da cute one's die out. Da elfies tink dey betta dan us. She talked too much." I instantly did not trust this troll. His alterior motives had to be vast. Despite this, I said nothing in reply, thankful that I escaped with my life, however little that might actually mean.

"Da event be almost ova now." The general said, his eyes trailing the horizon. "I 'ave strict ordas ta be keepin' an eye on ya." I breathed out. Of course. The Lich King must have had need of me yet. I steeled the bloodlust for now, channeling the inner calm. I knew I would have need of it for my next task. The Lich King was already whispering in my ear, telling me my tasks had only just begun.

The sun rose slowly, and the remaining disciples of frost stepped into the clearing, as the horn blared its sorrowful tune. A quick glance at my fellow champions of the Scourge, told me that the casualties had been larger than I'd thought.

A large, dark furred Tauren, his left horn completely sheared off, stood closest to the Gryphon. His polearm was chipped and covered in a dark liquid I could only imagine was blood. A tall, thin Draenei woman stood next to him, her pale green hair wavy and limp against her face, strands curled around her cuved horns. A grotesque scar adorned her neck. A male blood elf with hair the color of fresh snow stood opposite them, his skin a pale, sickly looking blue. His sword was clean, and I wondered if he had even gotten his hands dirty to survive the night. The last, a male orc, who looked as though he had never been dead to begin with, were it not for a dent in his chest where I contemplated, a weapon was sure to have penetrated, stood next to me, his face twisted in what looked to be anger.

The troll general circled us, observing each of us as individuals, sizing us up.

"Now dat da test be complete, I'll be assignin' ya your next task." He pulled a few scrolls from his belt and handed them to each of us, each marked with a wax seal.

"Ya need ta be headin' back to da Necropolis." Aktemi said, glancing at each of us, his gaze lingering on me. I opened my scroll, and read quickly what was contained within.

A town was drawn upon the parchment paper, its detailed structures labeled, each section drawn out carefully. It seemed oddly familiar and for a moment, a voice, not unlike my own, yet softer, kinder, mused; "The Light".

I followed the other knights to the griphons, whom flew us back to the balcony from which we had came. I dismounted, quickly moving away, towards the Lich of Frost, when I felt someone following me. I turned to see the Draenei female from before, her eyes studying me carefully.

"I noticed we share a mission." She spoke, her accent thick. "I believe the Lich King would find we served him better if we approached this plan together." I contemplated this. I wouldn't mind another body to assist with my task. Pur unholy counterparts had their pet ghoulds and abominations, and our blood brothers and sisters were sturdier than most, able to sustain heavy hits with ease. Perfect for taking on larger groups that paacked a greater punch.

While we still wore the standard plate armor of the death knights, our specialty was frost, a slow disease, quick preservation, high damage. Results. Having another watch my back, all while serving the Lich King, did not seem like a bad idea at all.

"Crysanthemum." I said, inclining my head slightly, lettiing her know that I had accepted her offer. She nodded her head in assent.

"Aeleria." She replied. "Shall we seek out the Highlord for further instruction?" I merely nodded my head, knowing from my master's whisperings that indeed, this was our next stop before our crusade against our first target could truly begin. Without any more words, we walked to the platform where the beacon was, and disappeared into the dark Necropolis.

...

Wow... this chapter took way too long. I hope you all enjoyed the story so far, more to come soon! I'm gonna go sleep... xD


	15. Sneaking Suspicions

Sneaking Suspicions

...

Azerieh's perspective

...

I wasn't absolutely sure where I would start, but I figured my best bet was to ask around first, and see if anyone had noticed any strange behavior coming from either of my sisters. While it was pretty normal for Xaedrienne not to be home for long periods of time, Tristee had less of an excuse. Finding anyone willing to talk about either of them, however, proved to be more difficult a task than I had originally thought.

Most of the citizens I conversed with either wanted coin for their time, or any form of payment really, for which I'd had to punch a select few people, to loosen their tongue. I figured for most of these cases, they didn't have anything useful to give me, and I'd move on. The rest, seemed to have no recollection of seeing Tristee or Xae, making me feel even more suspicious as I moved about the city, trying to find anyone with any sort of information that could confirm what I was thinking.

By the time I'd been around half the city, I'd gotten next to nothing in information, and had been told to "Go play somewhere else, kid" more often than I could count.

Beginning to feel discouraged, I wandered into the training grounds, looking for someone from Tristee's division, who were bound to have seen them recently. Strangely, most of her division had already gone off duty, and those that were still hanging around, seemed confused, unable to answer my questions at all. I groaned in frustration, turning heel and ready to leave, when I saw none other than Hector Dos, Tristee's batallion commander. I ran up to him quickly, before he had a chance to leave.

"Dos! Hey!" He turned, puzzled, and then shot a friendly smile my way, waving a bit. I stopped in front of him, trying to calm myself long enough to ask my questions.

"Whatsup, Az?" He asked slowly. "Ya need somethin'." I smiled, thankful that finally, I would get the answers I needed.

"Yeah, I just had a couple questions." I said, brushing a stray curl out of my face. "I was just wondering if you knew what was going on with Tristee." I said casually. "She's been acting really strange lately. Really unlike herself." Dos looked unsurprised.

"That's really not much of a surprise considering." Dos said, scratching his chin. I tilted my head, not having expected that response. "She had a rough night last night."

"A rough night?" I asked, my curiousity getting the better of me.

"Yeah." He replied, adjusting the pack on his back. "She and Copper ran into some scourge at forest line. They took 'em down, but I'm pretty sure it shook 'em up pretty good." He thought to himself for a moment, and Azerieh noticed his brow seemed to furrow, as if he were having difficulty remembering something. "Copper put in his resignation this morning... and Tristee just asked for a break from duty. Not uncommon with what they had to deal with."

"What do you mean?" I pressed, unable to curb my curiosity. Dos looked uncomfortable for a moment, and something crossed his face for a brief moment. Pity?

"They fought off a scourge behemoth and... a death knight. One of our own."

The breath was nearly knocked out of me. A death knight, here? So close to the city? No wonder Tristee and Xaedrienne were acting strange. I had yet to encounter one, but everyone knew the stories. The cold blue eyes, the emotionless killing machines that had been told to have killed thousands upon thousands. It gave me chills just to think about it.

"Anyway,"Dos continued, his eyes on the sky. "I gave her one. Can't remember much of that conversation though, now that I think on it." My eyes snapped to his, narrowing. Something wasn't right. If it was one thing I knew about Dos, it was that he was a stickler for details. For him not to remember...

"Can't remember most of it?" I asked warily.

"Yeah," Dos said, scratching his head. "She had that creepy lookin' squid demon out, and it was starin' at me pretty hard. I think it took a lot of my concentration away, it was givin' me the creeps. Took a lot of control not to want to bash the thing's jelly-face in, ya know?"

But I was hardly paying attention to him anymore. My mind was completely on Tristee, and her dreaded observer. I'd only asked her one time what the thing even did, having been confused as to why the creature even existed, since it did nothing but stare at people as if it really wanted to feast on them. It was creepy and Tristee fed it raw foods, that it consumed like it was really starving for something else. Tristee had mostly kept it vague and brief, but she _did_ tell me that it had a particular ability to wipe memories. Not long term, but maybe a week, and it did it passively. All it needed to do was capture your attention for one moment and Bam!

Thanking Dos quickly, I ran, finding myself in front of Lebkha's house before I knew it, knocking on her door, hoping she was home.

Her eldest brother, Taz, answered the door.

"Azzy! How's it goin'! How ya been!" He asked cheerfully, swinging the door open fully. "Come on in, Lebkha's preppin' up in her room, so she'll be down soon enough. She said you'd be stoppin' by. Ma's probably dyin' ta see ya! Come on, come on, take a seat!"

I was ushered in and practically pushed into a sinkhole couch before I could protest. Taz always did try to make everyone feel comfortable, a priestly trait if I ever saw one. I sent a glare in his direction, and he loftily dismissed me.

" I got lemonade and kaja cola, want some?" He asked, rummaging through a small refridgerator, something his ma had built years ago.

"Uh..." I said, feeling slightly overwhelmed. "A cola is fine."

He tossed me one, and I lobbed the cap off, tossing it at his ear. He chuckled and sent me a mock glare.

"Rude." He said jokingly. "So How is warrior life? Hard as can be? I see you've packed on a few pounds-"

I was startled to see that my aunt, a short goblin woman, had smacked the back of my cousin's head, her eyes unamused, a slight smirk on her face.

"Taz!" She said incredulously. "That's rude!" She walked around the side of the couch, flicking his ear as she passed him again, earning a nervous chuckle and a flinch.

"And you're the eldest." Taz shrugged, laughing to himself, and stood up, promptly leaving the room. I shook my head. Despite being a few months older than Xaedrienne and Crysanthemum, the boy had the maturity of a toddler. My aunt Izzy came and sat next to me, drawing me into a quick hug, then getting a good look at my face.

"It's been quite some time, Azerieh. How is your ma? Enjoying her home life I'd guess?" My aunt and ma had been best friends in their youth. My ma married her brother, and well, the rest was history.

"She's great, aunt-Izzy" I said, sipping my cola. "Just missing us all ya know? We're out of the house more than she would like." My aunt nodded sympathetically, then smiled cheerfully.

"Oh I'm sure." She replied. "Sometimes I wish _my_ boys would leave. Taz especially refuses and Dex is just to shy to go out and explore." She sighed, leaning against the back of the couch. "I always did wish at least _one_ of my kiddos would have followed the spirit's call, wanting to work with the elements. Guess their father's genes are just too strong." I chuckeld half-heartedly, knowing that shaman were in short supply in Everlook, where it was almost the land of perpetual winter.

"Is Lebkha almost done you think?" Both my aunt and I jumped as suddenly, Lebkha mmaterialized out of nowhere on the couch next to us, filing her nails into sharp points.

"Yikes, Lebkha, a little warning would do your ol' ma's heart some good." My aunt said, grasping at her chest. "You're going to give me a heart attack."

"Aw, you'll be fine ma." She said, waving at her mother and smiling mischeviously. "Are you ready to go Az?" She asked me, hopping up onto her feet. "I'll catch ya later ma! Tell pops his robes are in the livin' room!" Aunt Izzy rolled her eyes and waved Lebkha away playfully.

"Just be back before Sunup, you know how your father is." She called after us as Lebkha practically dragged me out of her house. Lebkha smiled and waved at her mother.

"She pretends it's not true," She said as we walked away from the house. "But I iknow that I'm her favorite." She said, winking at me. I sighed and yanked on her arm, bringing her to a halt.

"Are you sure it will all work out." I asked cautiously. Lebkha shrugged.

"I don't see why not." She replied, looking at me strangely. "What do you really mean though?"

I drew circles in the dirt with my foot, wondering how much I should tell her.

"I think Xae and Tristee are up to something." I hedged, waiting to see her reaction. She didn't seem surprised, which I wasn't sure was reassuring. "I've been... asking around. But no one seems to know what they're doing, where they're going... I think Tristee has been using her demon to hide what she's been doing."

I looked at Lebkha determinably, her expression blank.

"So... you want to know what they're up to?" Lebkha verified. I nodded. She thought for a moment.

"I think I might know someone who may be able to help." She said slowly, her expression brightening. "I'll talk to Carey. He always has intel on everything that's going around. He's an even sneakier rogue than me!" I nodded in ascent, deciding for now to trust her judgement. I wasn't exactly sure if I wanted to deal with another rogue though.

We walked to a cluster of buildings, loud with noise, music, fighting, little ones screaming. Lebkha strode right into the alley, quickening her pace, and stood in front of the back fence wall silently. I stood awkwardly to the side, my muscles tensed, my hand close to my mace. I chewed on my lip out of nervousness, not understanding why she was just standing there, waiting for something to happen.

Suddenly, a knife was being pressed upon my throat, its blade sharp and wet, with what I highly suspected to be poison. I made no moves, locking my muscles carefully, not wanting to die in a back alleyway in Everlook. A hand, strong, grabbed my right arm, wrenching it behind my back painfully, making it impossible to grab my mace.

"Be still or we will see your blood on the ground, trespasser." A gravelly voice whispered in my ear. I instantly knew it was a forsaken male, and contemplated merely kicking back and throwing him onto the ground. I pondered a way to do it without getting nicked by his poison blade, when I saw Lebkha's ear twitch.

She turned on her heels quickly, hands on her hips and her face in a perpetual pout, her eyes trained on the man behind me.

"Carey." She said, pointing to the man, the very one she had just been speaking about. "That's my cousin Azerieh. You can let her go. Looks like she's about to kick your ass anyway."

The forsaken man released me and I turned on heel to look at him. Mostly intact, save for his jaw, which looked to be metal molded to simulate a bottom jaw, teeth included. He had a single tuft of hair, tactfully spiked into a mowhawk, its greasiness making it shiny. His skin was a pale purple color, and his hair was black like an oil slick. His yellowed eyes stared down at me as Lebkha trotted over.

"Where is the rest of the group?" Lebkha asked, playfully punching Carey's arm. The man looked at Lebkha carefully, still wary of me.

"They're waiting at the redez-vous point." He replied, sheathing his daggers, eyes shifting back to me.

"Well then let's go!" Lebkha said, jumping onto Carey's back. He didn't even look phased. "C'mon Az! Let's go!" I shrugged and indicated that he move forward so I could follow him.

We weren't walking for long before I saw a large group forming up ahead of our path. Some of those present were large, hulking shapes, others slender and tall. I saw the silhouettes of Goblin ears and knew whatever group this was, they couldn't be that untrustworthy.

It looked like, with the addition of Lebkha, Carey and I, we totaled about twenty five. I noticed a tall orcess standing next to a hulking paladin Tauren, standing a few feet away from the bulk of the group, talking closely with one another. Both bore large shields, easily twice my size, made of heavy, dense materials. Their swords were bulky as well, taller than I and sharp as the rogue's daggers.

I took note of a particularly dainty looking forsaken priest, two Tauren, wearing traditional druid robes, and two Orcess's, their mail armor shimmering with the setting sun, sharing mana potions and herbal focus remedies. They all looked gentle, even though Orcs were generally pretty menacing at first. I assumed based on this that they were our healers. This left the mass bulk of the group as the fighters. The damage dealers.

The tall slender forms I'd noted before belonged to a male and female blood elf, a paladin and a hunter, respectively, both with very red hair and glowing green eyes the color of fel-fire. The female was plucking at her string, most likely testing its strength, and the male was sharpening his blade, it's girth as thick as his female counterparts body. An Orc warlock conversed amicably with a Goblin Shaman that I recognized from Xaedrienne's division. Her blonde hair was pulled into a very neat plait, her hands gesturing wildly as she explained something to her listener. The Orc's face was covered by a dark mask, with slits for his eyes, and his robes were a motley of red and black

Three druids and one shadow priest, identifiable by the dark aura that seemed to surround him, were what looked to be gamblin on a small wooden board. The trolls were both a sky-blue color, with long, shiny tusks. Their red hair was like fire, and they both wore worn leathers. The Tauren druid sat behind them, watching the game in amusement.

The last three of the group were goblins, and I immediately reconized all three. The Leybomb brothers. Tix, Ric, and Daz. A warlock, mage, and shadow priest. The three were all close in age, known for causing all sorts of mayhem in Everlook, and were good buisnessmen, having deals on all sorts of enchantments, potions, and the like. I troteed over to them, and immediately, their faces were upturned into wide grins, nearly identically.

"Azerieh?" Tix said, slapping my arm jokingly. "They gotcha here too, eh?"

"Gonna join the guild?" Ric cut in, his red eyes narrowing slyly at me, winking. "We've been hurtin' for a warrior, ya know?" This startled me, and I took a good look at the tabards that they were all wearing. It was clearly a Horde guild, red and black it's suit, and a sword embroidered on the front. I turned to looke at Lebkha, looking puzzled.

"Ya haven't mentioned the guild to here yet?"Tix exclaimed, spooking his imp, a skittish looking creature. Lebkha shot a glare his way.

"I didn't want to ask prematurely." She replied, her voice irritated. "In case Dessicus wasn't looking to expand and recruit right now."

"He _just_ put out that we was lookin' for a warrior type." Daz cut in, dropping his shadow text on a slat of rock. "I don't think he'd mind a little indirect guild recruitment."

"I dunno..." Ric said, shining the tip of his staff meticulously. "Dessicus has been straight up picky with who he lets in the guild as of late." I paused, thinking for a moment, before turning to look at Lebkha warily.

"...You're really in a guild?" I asked her hesitantly. She sighed, scratching her head.

"Yes. I'm in a guild." She said slowly.

"With the Leybomb brothers."

"Hey now!"

"What's that supposed ta mean?"

"Whoa, whoa!"

I ignored the trios protests, reading Lebkha's body language carefully. She didn't look uncomfortable or nervous, rather annoyed. But her eyes were angry.

"Sheesh, let's just wait." Lebkha said, holding up her hands. "I don't wanna get kicked because you loudmouths are spoutin' my buisness everywhere."

"Who is Dessicus?" I askedm quietly, looking around at the guild.

"He's the elf paladin." Ric replied loftily. "The only one with a constant look of disgust on his face."

I instantly locked on to a set of gleaming armor and beheld a very familiar looking male blood elf, the one who had been standing near the female hunter. His red hair was loose, save for a spiky bunch of hair held in at the top of his head, his bangs framing his face. His armor was nearly immaculate and he didn't appear to have a scratch or scar on him. His gaze caught mine, and I could feel the scrutiny burning through me. He then began to walk towards our small gaggle.

Lebkha groaned, her ears flattenin out slightly as he approached us, her body suddenly seeming even smaller than it was naturally.

"Who is this, you've brought, Lebkha?" Dessicus asked, his voice smooth and rich.

"She's my cousin, Azerieh. Fury Warrior." Lebkha supplied quickly. He continued to gaze at me, his eyes narrowing.

"Very well, she'll fill our last spot. Let's get this group together and get on with our lives."

I felt a light tap on my shoulder as he walked away, and turned to see the dainty forsaken girl from before starting at me warmly.

"Hello." She chirped cheerfully, her smile kind. "Don't mind me, it helps if I have a soul link with newbies, just in case I need to pull you out of fire, or send some larger healing magic your way." She smiled, and I felt a warm light embrace me, almost like a shield. She walked away, and I watched her in slight awe. Lebkha shrugged.

"That's Alstromerea." Lebkha said. "She's a holy priest. She's... a little odd. But, overall she's really nice." I nodded, and followed Lebkha as she beckoned me to follow the group to a vavern I'd never seen before. An ominous glow was around it's edges.

"Hold tight, and just listen to what the tanks say, and you'll do just fine." Lebkha whispered to me. "After it's all done, we'll go talk to Carey." I nodded and steeled myself. I had to get through this in order to get the information I needed. There was no other way, I told myself.

It was time to take action.

...

Okay, this is a _really_ long chapter. Not intended. At least that's over. Enjoy!


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